


Snakes and Crows.

by BenNJerryRavioli



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, Idiots to Idiots, idiots to dumber idiots, mentions of trauma and etc, oh no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 89,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29012514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenNJerryRavioli/pseuds/BenNJerryRavioli
Summary: Struggling with the immense burden of being The Guardian of Guardians, Maksim finds an unlikely close friendship helped by fate spiraling out of her control.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 49





	1. Maksim.

She was flat down on her stomach, her head turned to look through the scope of a sniper rifle. The glowing red eyes of her helmet were enough to detract those who tried to bother her. A group of Fallen slowly moved away from their own battles, anticipating a Vex onslaught.  
  
“We’re back on the Moon…” She told her Ghost, voice quiet as a whisper. “How far have we gone, you and I?”  
  
“A generous few miles, I might say.” Robotic voice smooth as the air came behind her. “Can I ask you a weird question?”  
  
“Alright.”  
  
“Right.” He said. “Do you ever wonder of your past life?”  
  
Guardians weren't supposed to think about breaking that precious rule. There was an instant of silence after the question. She kept her head down, but shifted her eyes to the night sky.  
  
“The Awoken world continues to be on fire, just like always. It’s not as if we’re looking forward. We’re looking back.” The Hunter briefly pointed a finger up at the starry sky, morbidly wondering if the Pyramids laid the Awoken corpses to rest around Saturn. “Right up at the stars, that’s where the fire’s coming from.” The ripples on the Hunter’s blue face underneath the helmet spoke to her in a whisper, almost.  
  
“I meant of the life before you became an Awoken.” The Ghost clarified.  
  
“I dream of fragments now and then, but I partially doubt that it even existed.” She tracked a running Dreg with her rifle, for practice if anything. “I could have been a terrible person.”  
  
She listened quietly for something, keeping her finger away from the trigger to avoid accidental fire. Sound had faded away, leaving the Moon an unsettling quiet. Never liked the quiet. Gave her too much time to start thinking.  
  
“What would be a better life for you, Bun?” She asked her Ghost. His bunny shell was a contrast to her dark apparel. “Not knowing, or knowing about who I was and still taking a chance?”  
  
“I can’t say…” Bun didn’t think about it much. “I like the life I have, with you in it.” He added, as she turned to face him. “You’re saying it in a way that— Hm… I think I would feel good taking that chance, actually. In retrospect. We’ve done pretty well so far.”  
She lightly tapped him on the side of his shell. The Ghost continued. “I don’t think the Traveler would have chosen you if it didn’t believe it was important to give someone a chance who needs it. No matter who you were.”  
  
“I guess I get a little worried sometimes about the past.” She holstered the gun on her back, and sat up. Her gloved fingers started to twist in knots. Bun always did his best to be nice, but sometimes he felt scared and vulnerable. “Guardians are always trying to do something good or useful, not to be good or evil. I don’t want to know who I was before; I just want to know if I have redeemed myself. As of now, I’m not sure where I stand.”  
  
A red spectre, a ghost, a nightmare, was on its knees in the far of distance. Its form was strange, very different from an ordinary monster. It came from another place in time, its expression was very strange. It couldn’t move from its spot. She was transfixed by it, pushing away the thought that she might see a reflection of herself in it. Had no time to feel sorry for herself.

“Guardian.” A deep Awoken voice in her ear startled her to the point where she started to scramble for her gun. “We have a developing situation that I need you to take point on…”


	2. The Crow.

Fights put her in an adrenaline filled trance, charged by a lack of a will to be present. Sometimes it almost made her faint. Her Ghost has become accustomed to this, taking care of the talking and the friendliness.

When it all stopped, it hurt like hell to look at _everything_. She had never felt this exhausted, and now she had no idea what to do. She couldn’t help but feel that the world was spinning out of her control, so she just let it happen. The only way she knew she would be able to do this was through herself, she didn't need to see or hear a whole lot of it. So, she was keeping her voice low, her voice cold, her gaze cold. The Hunter kept herself close, as if she was a second away from shouting at everyone.

After a while she started to categorize it. She spent almost thirty minutes looming just outside of the Spider’s hangout, leaning against the cold and solid wall. 

Sagira was dead, killed by Xivu Arath's High Celebrant.

Uldren – or Crow, as 'they' called him – had been resurrected as a Guardian.

Spider adopted him, with a demolition charge on his Ghost.

Uldren was dead.

It felt like there was a lot more. She gripped her helmet, expecting to find soft hair to run her hands through. No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, it had surprisingly enough no meaning to it. Nothing. It didn't make a difference to the real fight, She just wanted something a little bit more, maybe a moment at hand which would offer her an opportunity to turn the table and let go of the pain she felt for her own losses.

“It’s going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?” She asked Bun. She felt that with enough determination and hard work she could be strong enough to survive the inevitable upcoming conversation. “All you have to do is keep me standing and I won’t want to sabotage everything.” The Hunter grunted out a sigh as she pushed herself off of the metal wall. “No, that’s not really the point of it. Ugh!”

Spider isn’t going to be happy about the hole she left in his wall.

“We need to talk with him at some point. Hive never wait for us.”

“I know.”

She steeled herself, the short walk to where he was hiding felt like her trek after she lost her Light. She pulled her helmet off her head, revealing blue skin, yellow glowing eyes, and unkempt red hair to the world. She found that air helped no matter how filthy it was due to the Scorn. To her left, a poorly lit room. The light inside was a gentle glow. Her eyes focused on the figure in the very back. She took a step forward to the young Awoken. 

“The Reef’s sky has holes in it…” The Crow skipped wasting time on redundant introductions. “… and the whole system is in chaos. Of course, Xivu Arath decided now was the right time to corrupt herself an army.”

Even Bun couldn’t find the words, so both he and the Hunter let the young Guardian talk. Crow talked slow, lost in a haze. “We call them Wrathborn. Most of them are Eliksni, like Spider. Others… hmph, well.”

She could see herself in him, a tiny bit. Yet, at same time a great blanket of discomfort embraced her. Usually, words that came out of that specific face filled her with great annoyance. The Hunter was a professional, though. Couldn’t let that show.

“And they have clogged the artery of Glimmer, and Spider needs our help.” She said. Spider was _very_ predictable. “The Tangled shore is familiar with me.”

“Yes…” Crow’s voice faded, not exactly matching his dramatic introduction from earlier on the Moon. “Apparently, the Guardians of the Last City are old friends of mine. But… I don’t remember you.” The Crow changed the subject before the Hunter could think of anything, or mask her expression in time. Crow told her about his project, how he fashioned Hive artifacts into a lure. A minor passion for his work, at the very least. She noted the attempt at humor, with the imitation of the Spider. She was very happy at the indication that their conversation will stop at talking about Xivu Arath. 

For a minute or two. Until he said:

“Don’t take this the wrong way but it’s… nice to be working with another Lightbearer.”

It caught her off guard, just as she thought it would.

They were both in a time flux of fate, one that she didn't want to begin to understand. They were forced to forget. They had completely forgotten the worlds they were once so devoted to. Once they shared the same fears, same hatred, same sadness. And now, once again, they have failed to grasp the truth of both their lives. In both the lives of their former selves and the lives of their new selves.

Forgotten different identities were starting to boil in the head of the woman, even making her hair redder. She grunted out the frustration.

There was an option to just leave. Grab the lure, not even bother to think about the situation at hand. Before all of this, best way she could think of to stop situations that irked her in this way was with blood, but she had gotten plenty on this cursed Shore. Guardians die and come back. Awoken Guardians have the privilege of living three separate lives. Thrown in a death cycle. They were in their past at some point, if not prior to their deaths. They were in their future at some point, if not prior to their passing. Their former selves’ life ends, and that is just that. They can’t change their future.

Never mind Cayde. She accepted that he died long ago.

This conundrum was what was making the situation dreadful. What were they thinking for? Was it just an idea which got out of hand? Did someone else just make that stupid expression in their awkward silence right there? How could she figure any of this out? 

She quit. Didn't have time for all of this.

“There’s nothing you can do, Maks…” She finally whispered to herself, choosing to avoid the young Lightbearer. Had to get the lure. Had to leave. Hive to kill. The motions. “If you’re trying to be a good person, you have to be able to say something, to be brave, to be kind.” Maks kept mumbling. Cayde kept telling her to be good. To be the best one can be. To be--

“Maks?”

“That’s me.” She gave him a half smile, though avoiding looking at him.

“Sorry…” He shook his head. “I still don’t remember you. I do have some questions.”

Maks could read between the lines. He has some questions about Awoken. She had doubts that the Spider would let anyone in, _particularly_ the Awoken.

The Spider told her to not mention the old name. Maks assuming that simply talking about the Awoken more so was forbidden. He’d start to look into history, and eventually find stories of the prince. 

Whilst The Spider preferred Crow's heart to be built out of bones, there was room for improvisation. Room to build something solid.

The two lived in a universe that was no longer theirs, but for which they are already being transformed, and now cannot hope to escape the horrors their past lives have been subjected to.

She pulled out a nearby chair and sat down. It helped her think. She almost wanted to save him. Give him a true new beginning of life. Tangled Shore was too close for comfort to the Dreaming City. Maks had doubts that Petra would welcome back the remains of the Forsaken Prince with open arms.

“Sure. Go for it. Ask the questions.” Her words made him look down for a moment, thinking, listening to the Spider in the next room. “It’s a very selfish thing to put things in jeopardy, but it’s hard to imagine a better conversation topic for me since I’m such a bad actor.” Maks tried to tell a joke.

“How long have you been a Lightbearer? The locals speak of you as if you have a place of authority. Hushed, of course.”

“A lifetime of six years.” She sensed he was still overwhelmed, or something else. He wasn’t fully there. “I could also offer you some unsolicited advice, in lieu of leadership of the Tower.”

“I think that might be easier. I have a rough idea of things thanks to the ‘ _courtesy’_ of others, but Spider isn’t a Lightbearer.”

As these children are being brought together, they discover that the other side doesn’t care and is going to have them both killed down the line.

It isn’t that they are stuck in the past. It isn’t that they want to escape it. It is that they have accepted the reality that their old self would continue to exist in this world in spite of them.

She wants to leave the past behind. More than anything.

“You are a new person.” Maks told him, in a tone that made it sound like she was also convincing herself. “I can’t tell you _why_ you’re starting from scratch, but it is a new life. You are in the very beginning, but you are already making your mark on the road. You’re obviously capable.” She stood up and grabbed the impressive looking Hive lure from the table.

“Will I ever remember…” He thinks of this, then thinks of it again. How will I learn? Why do we all forget what we have done? Why does any of it matter?

“You have a new life to live, Crow. So, let’s go from here.” Maks gave him a brief wry yet friendly smile. “You also need to have more than one person who’s willing to walk with you on the road. I’ll be here.”

That she feels the need to destroy her past selves, as it reminds her of her present self. But right now, she was too deeply immersed in her new self that she would never want to go back.

Couldn’t speak for him. But she had hopes.

Maks exhaled sharply. “The Hive are waiting for me.”


	3. Campfire.

Night, or as close as it can get to it, had fallen on the Tangled Shore. This far away from sun, night was when their Ghosts told them it was night. After a long day of hunting Wrathborn, she warmed her hands in front of a make-shift campfire, despite having little use for it. She could channel Solar Light to warm herself, but she enjoyed the normalcy of traditional ways, enjoyed a little routine to keep her mind in check. Handful of tripmines were around her little camp so that loose Scorn wouldn’t catch her off guard. Maks despised the things.

The Hunter thought of her old friends, ones that she knew before she died in Old Russia. She died alone, but refused to believe that she had no one in her life.

She thought of that time before she finally realized she was no longer a part of it, part of whatever the Awoken were supposed to be. The song, The Queen's first and only, is a dark, ominous song that sounds like something to go with the Hive.

It had taken all her strength to stand up and take it. She felt like she’d left a hole in her own world that she couldn’t fill. Her heart beat like a drum, and she just couldn’t help the anger that threatened to come out in her eyes when she stared at the fire. She wasn’t good at hiding her anger.

She’d been trying to reach into her world. A world that was so big. Even after all her efforts, she could see her world spinning in on itself.

“It’s easy to tell Crow that it’s a new life. It’s harder to accept that we have no meaningful way to help each other.” Maks said to Bun. “Has to be better explanation than…” She trailed off.

“Than… what?”

“When I think of my parents or sisters somewhere in the Dreaming City or where ever they may be, I worry they’ll try to kill me if we ever meet again.” Her voice was only audible to her Ghost close by. “Is that strange?”

A series of Solar explosions cut that thought and question very short, and another Ghost’s voice announcing that a Guardian was, indeed, _down_. The Reef purple Ghost carefully reconstructed his Guardian, and she realized she had a hand cannon pointed at him only when she saw Crow with his arms raised. Breathing out a slow sigh of relief that it wasn’t a Screeb, she carefully holstered the weapon.

“Gotta work on your Nightstalker skills there, my guy!” She noticed him eyeing the gun before he fully unfroze. "That was for the Screebs..."

“Sorry!” Glint apologized, adorable as ever. “Thought that my Guardian needed some company. Didn’t mean to scare you!”

“It’s alright!” Maks reassured him. The duo looked oddly worried, still. “As I told you earlier. If you don’t want to die, you can call us. We’re willing to come with you.” She began arming new grenades around them. “Even if you want to die, we’re willing to die with you.”

Crow sighed, then let out a soft and mirthless laugh. He sat down on the other side of the campfire, not saying much else as both of their Ghosts went elsewhere to argue about their Guardians. After a moment he leaned forward the fire slightly, the fire making his golden eyes more intense. Respecting the silence, she stoked the fire with her sword. Maks felt a bad memory coming on.

“Do you mind some more questions?” Crow asked. “We’re in the middle of a battle, but this is just how things turn out. It’s a shame to not have a good idea about what’s around you…”

“Feels disconcerting, doesn’t it?” Maks knew that feeling. She remembered how angry she was back when she first woke up.

Crow nodded, the hood almost covering the glowing golden eyes. “A little bit.”

“Feels like your life was stolen from you.” She watched him nod again. “The feeling goes away. Not fully, but it becomes easier.”

“I think that I will come out fine. But what I don’t like about it is, I have no idea what happened to me. How do the two of you survive this thing?” He said it slowly and paused, as though to say that he was feeling very sorry for himself, as though saying: This is my fate. The work for Spider, the seemingly undefeatable army they’re dealing with. Man with no choice or freedom in sight. Despite all that, Crow felt a great sense of responsibility in his task.

And it seemed like there was a very large difference between how she now understood someone and how she used to.

Neither really knew who they were.

“I accepted that this is my life, I believe I am going to try to get through this. If it isn’t my life, I’ll get through it by the grace of the Traveler and the miracle of my own luck.” She gave a simple answer. Luck failing Cayde was what got them both in this moment, but she selectively ignored it. Luck had treated her well.

“I don’t think luck is going to get us out of this.” He needed a break from the sombre atmosphere, just for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t look a gift Guardian in the mouth, either. He wasn't sure if he trusted her yet. “How long are you going to stay here in the Shore?”

“Until it’s all taken care of. I don't want to be here, either.” Maks grunted slightly. “With other Lightbearers too busy on Europa, I can’t bring myself to leave until the fight is done here.”

Maks couldn’t bring herself to tell him that all of this was her fault. The lingering rage of revenge left by her and Fikrul on the Shore served as an excellent foundation for Xivu Arath’s wrath machinations. Uprooting the Cryptoliths would tear the Shore apart. The Hive have studied her long enough to know what to do to win.

Her voyage of revenge planted the seed for all of this, she was certain.

No matter how she pulled, she couldn’t seem to remove the weight of guilt. The weight was there, not only for the curse plaguing the Shore and the Dreaming City. The weight was all in her. It made her sick. She was sick because it felt like everything was all wrapped up in her, that the whole world was all going to collapse all because of _her_.

Maks noticed Crow looking at something behind her, looking amused. Following his gaze, her own eyes landed on a rather welcome sight. The two Ghosts were playing a little game, reminding her of the children of the Last City, taking turns chasing each other. If she listened closely, she could hear them compare their own Guardians. Her own Ghost brought up percentages. 

And a small smile found its way on her face.


	4. Dreaming City.

Osiris wasn’t a Titan, and if Maks would have the audacity to compare him to Zavala she would hear rebuttals about it until all extinct animals would come home to the Tower. Maks may have forgotten everything about her life, but Osiris and Zavala helped her re-experience the feeling of disappointing one’s parent during many different occasions so far.

“Maksim.” Osiris stood in Zavala’s office with his arms crossed, feathers on his robes lightly swaying. Him using her full name was an added touch she didn’t need.

“Hmmhm?” Maks strained out a response of acknowledgement. “I assume we need to talk about Crow?”

“I know that you didn’t read my message. I see that you’ve been talking to him during the off hours.” The dried blood colored mask and the headgear covered most of his face, making him completely unreadable. He saw her open her mouth to complain about him keeping tabs on her, but she quickly shut it. “I trust that you are careful with your words. Crow is a New Light. If the first trigger pull was not enough to satisfy, know that you only risk our chance at victory for a scrap of catharsis.”

“I didn’t kill him. Uldren broke the gun with his royal incompetence.” Maks said outright, then pointed to the light ripples on her blue face with her thumb. “You know as well as I do that odds are that I’ve known his past life far longer than you have. I’m careful.”

“Yes, that is the root of my worries.” Osiris didn't give her the impression that he even heard what she had to say. “There is so much worse to worry about right now than recovering what you were, or inane Awoken politics of betrayals and tragedies. You will be dead because you have chosen a false reality. Wrathborn Hive have been found in the Dreaming City. I want your reassurance that it won’t be a problem.”

“Yes, and Crow’s intelligence didn’t die with his old life. If I know him well, he will find out the truth by himself in a couple of weeks. He’s not a toddler to be kept ignorant.” Maks could hear the annoyance building up in him. 

“It’s a measure that has to be taken, for now. I expect his devotion to sisterly figures carried over as well.”

Her glowing eyes widened.

“I don’t think that’s a fair thing to say.” Maks didn’t expect response from Osiris, but she did find herself wondering if he might’ve thought her an idiot.

“The more power you wield over this problem, the weaker we become. Lucky for you, your actions have managed to be considerably louder than your words.” He uncrossed his arms, ready to leave. “Keep hunting.”

The silence of his message, the way he moved on, the way the words stuck, made it strange to let go.

Once Osiris was gone, she looked through the big window and placed a palm on the glass, fogging it where where she touched it. Things she would do to shed her Awoken skin and become one of the people living below. And yet, there were things that she would fight like hell for to make sure she stays a Guardian. She saw the reflection of her Ghost in the corner of her eye.

“We should make our way to the Dreaming City.” Bun said carefully. “I know your feelings about it, but…”

“I can get over it.” She took a deep breath, her face becoming more composed. She was nervous, but it had nothing to do with her biases. She was a survivor. A good one. What happened to her? For a moment, she just stared blankly, eyes wide, heart pounding. Her hand flew from the window to her side to find a necklace, which felt a lot smaller every time she looked for it. She found it buried, right where she was revived. Whoever gifted it to her once wanted it to live forever.

But as it was, she wasn’t going to worry about it. She pulled up the office doors and started to exit the building.

The redhead leaned back once she was in the pilot’s seat of her ship, and looked away to see her own reflection on some metal decorations, watching her face for any sign of emotion, but nothing came to mind. She was tired. She had a very hard time letting herself fall asleep. Her mind was pounding. There was a noise at the other side of her ship, and it echoed louder than anything.

She rubbed her temples, feeling her hair twitching.

“You know, it gets to be kind of lonely sometimes in the Dreaming City, doesn’t it?” Maks filled the air. She'll make a note to talk to Amanda to make her ship louder. “You want people to see you, but you don’t want to talk to them, either. People like to hide that they know you, so it’s easy to get distracted.“

“You could just ask.” Bun suggested.

“Funny!”

“Don’t be like that, Guardian.” Bun turned serious. “I know what it’s like to be scared.”

* * *

There were times when the lure would instantly work. Most other times, they would wait for hours. She sensed the Corsairs looking at her from afar, burning holes into her helmet. Crow was somewhere out of sight, on his own perch. Couldn't risk anyone seeing him.

The Awoken were not exactly people, according to most. Not people of this world, so to speak. Being one herself, Maks saw the Awoken as members of the world’s biggest conspiracy. She felt they were trying hard to manipulate people in every possible way. They were all in on the Queen’s plan.

But Maks wasn’t one of _them_ anymore. To her mind, their actions and goals were something entirely different. Only real reason she was interested in helping the Dreaming City was because the Awoken had information that could help other people. They could help the Awoken outside find the answers to the questions they had. The Queen’s Awoken would only allow her to return it to the Dreaming City, as if she had found the keys to the universe’s mysteries too large for outsiders to bear.

On more than one occasion as customary to the Dreaming City, whatever remained of Riven would start to whisper in her ear. Riven’s remnants were constantly trying to reach the place where all of Maks’ nightmares had been born.

“ _I want to stop worrying about what you were, but what I’m seeing on the other side is how sad you were_.” The ghostly voice echoed in her ear. “ _I want you to know, just keep moving forward and be happy. That’s all I’m going to ask_.”

Maks gripped the stone she was sitting on. She could shoot Scorn or Hive who were too loud for her liking. Not much to be done with Riven’s trickery. It wasn’t a voice Maks recognized, but it sounded motherly. She tried to figure out why the voice was telling her this, but all she knew was that the voice was telling her that she was wrong.

Maybe it did once belong to her mother, or that of someone close in need. But she just kept gripping the blue stone.

“ _This will feel so weird. I won’t even know if I’m happy, because I will feel so lonely. - Now that you’re gone, how is that gonna make you feel?_ ” Maks has tried sacrificing herself to nearby Hive on an earlier occasion. A reset didn’t stop the voices. She had to live it out, be berated by a memory of someone she no longer had a connection to. _“I’ll just be depressed. I can’t be unhappy about anything. I’m sick. You’re sad? I’m sad. You’re sad you don’t have anything to go to_.”

It sounded angrier now, more accusatory. A pair of eyes watching, and a whisper, and a murmur. In the middle of the silence, there was an unspoken call of the Ahamkara. The next voice was entirely different. The way she gritted her teeth produced an ear-piercing sound.

“ _You’re all just gone, you’re not me. I’ll be happy if I’m happy. You’re not going anywhere, o murderer mine. You’re not. There’s no time, and I never want to be the same again_.”

A screeching explosion was what put a stop to it, a massive Wrathborn Hive awaiting its death. She never heard the voices when fighting, but fighting in the Dreaming City became hopeless long ago. Maybe Riven was busy with someone else. Maybe it was the trance.

_“Does anyone else hear those whispers?”_ Crow said in her earpiece after the Ogre disappeared from existence.

She thought: Oh no. This all was a very big mistake.

_“You mean the horrific sub-audio wailing that we normally hear around the Hive?”_

“ _I’m serious_!” Crow insisted. “ _It was a voice. A real one. It sounded… regal_.”

Oh, no, no, no.

“ _You spend too much time hanging around worms and tumors_.” Glint said dismissively. “ _Maybe let_ _The Guardian take point for a while!_ ”

At the risk of angering Osiris, who was listening in, Maks had to contribute.

“It happens in this place.” Maks followed the green trail by foot. “A lingering malevolent spirit haunts this realm.” It came out spookier than intended.

“She is not joking.” Bun had to clarify. “But who is to blame for that?”

“In a sense, the haunting alone is not so much a bad outcome.” Maks said, albeit slightly woefully. “I really tried my best with what we had in that tower. But at some point, it became obvious that someone would find out about what I’d done, and that’s where the bad results come in.” The Hunter jumped over a puddle of Taken blight, the constant reminder. Next week it’ll be bigger. Week after that it will be gone again. “The last thing I wanted was any of this time curse happening. It all has become predictable, though, and there is no point whatsoever in me getting a second chance to change things anymore.”

“ _I think anyone deserves a second chance_.” Crow’s words surprised her. “ _That’s really what you told me when we first met. I think we’re making a difference here. I just wish there was a more humane way for some of the corrupted…_ ”

“Maybe.” She reached the entrance to the Wrathborn lair, covered with gunk. Her expression seemed like she was waiting for someone to tell her what to do or what to say. She was the only one in the room who didn’t deserve her second chance. 

“ _You’re an angry, broken person because you felt like you never did anything right_.”


	5. Give Up, And Try.

The Wrathborn were using the Dreaming City’s confluence as a transitway, walking parallel paths through the Ascendant Plane. Crow was starting to understand some of the symbology in that city. They needed to retrace their steps back to the High Celebrant, but the most important data points seemed to be missing.

Or, he was missing them. Had to find it. He wasn’t given an opportunity to ask around, though. 

“I might know a way to speed that up.” The lone Bun spoke, without his Guardian. Maks was trading materials with Spider for the moment so the Ghost took the opportunity to have a chat. “My Guardian has become pretty proficient at exploring the Ascendant Realm of the Dreaming City. She… actually knows how to solve your current problem. Better than most.”

“Then let’s go ask her!” Crow felt more hope than annoyance over yet another secret kept from him. The Ghost didn’t share the excitement.

“It’s not that easy. The true fight is in making her care about it.” Bun looked down for a moment. He was the one who handled words, but found himself struggling. She and this Young Light were getting along surprisingly well, but the internal fight never left her face. “You know, Maks doesn’t believe in any form of success anymore. She fights, but doesn’t think there is anything she can save. It became even worse when the planets were taken by the Darkness.”

“She didn’t tell me that.” Not like Crow was owed personal stories, there was still the slightest bit of disappointment.

“She didn’t tell me that either, but I’m her Ghost. I can tell.” Bun wanted to shrug, for some reason. “All the strength she invested in saving Titan, stopping Mars from getting destroyed. It’s all gone now.” He sighed. “Exploring the Ascendant Realm takes a toll. And, well… half of the choices she makes are based on my feelings about it.”

First Spider not listening to him, now this. Crow didn’t blame her, considering, but he was surprised to hear such things. The thing about Maks was that she didn’t seem to be doing anything for herself. So, she was like some old friend instead. There was no other source of meaning to all this, except that it was just something she wanted to keep secret. He certainly didn’t seem to think her an enemy when she was trying to convince herself that her actions were right.

Maks came around the corner just in time to hear a loud metallic clang, as Crow hurled a wrench at his workbench in anger. He looked sheepish when he saw her and began to tidy up. She could hardly see him through the dust.

He didn’t know where to start. Her yellow glowing eyes looked at him slowly but firmly, like she had a friendly presence that somehow held everything together.

“Spider’s attitude toward these hunts is getting to me,” Crow confessed. “I’ve tried to reason with him that there might be a way to save the corrupted Eliksni. He won’t hear it.”

Maks opted to listen – out of slight fear that she might accidentally say something she shouldn’t – and he continued, noticing the odd understanding in her eyes.

“I know the Wrathborn are a threat, but I refuse to abandon these people to death, or a fate worse than that. They took me in, and they deserve… better.”

She overheard their entire conversation before, and she had a feeling that Crow wasn’t trying to guilt trip her about her refusal to do anything except shoot the Wrathborn and her mind be in haywire. None of this was about her at the end of day.

The good that a man does is never done only by his own hands.

She hoped the other people around her could see it too. A world where she stood alone and empty, lost. There was no such thing as death. The other people in the world couldn’t say that they had all survived either. And yet, she watched the boy stand there, in silence, with his face turned away. He was silent because he was alone and he didn’t know if he was actually still alive or if it was just in his mind that he was.

It doesn’t even matter if you’re alive or dead. It doesn’t matter whether the world is in your hands or someone else’s.

Maks felt a strange sense of something close to hope.

Couldn’t save the City, wasn’t fast enough to save Cayde. Every good deed of hers brings more lives she couldn’t extend.

Something saved Crow.

“You’ve got a map of the Dreaming City?” She watched him blink a couple of times in surprise.

“Yeah.” He typed something into the console on his workbench and the familiar map covered the screen. “What now?”

“Dreaming City has points of entry into the Ascendant Realm, and the points shift weekly. Bun, can you update this?” As the Ghost worked, Crow’s map got expanded and various points of interest lit up. For the sake of perhaps nostalgia, she spent a lot of time in the Awoken City when it was first opened to outsiders, and it is _possible_ she stole some maps. There were still places that she could wander and be visited, even if they weren’t her personal haunts. In this way she became even further separated from everything that’s going on.

Osiris doesn’t have his Light anymore, so he can’t kill her for this.

Hopefully.

“There is a giant point of entry right in the Confluence.” Crow observed. “We have to investigate it. Looks exactly like something the High Celebrant would be drawn to.”

Of course it’d come to that.

“I can do it for you, when it opens soon. I doubt anything will come out of it.” There was a sing-song tune playing in her head, about how Osiris definitely won’t like this. Why should she care? “Just on one condition, to make sure that both of us – especially you and your Ghost – survive this.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t investigate who lives beyond that portal. They will know of our resolve to make the most of this opportunity. We’ve done this before.” Maks stared at him sternly, and lowered her voice. It was too early to get into Dul Incaru. “Just trust me, that one day, I will tell you the whole story if you wish. You two have to survive this thing, and get the hell out of here.”

Whoever she lost once upon a time, he could tell it left a lasting impact.

“Agreed.” He said, despite his lack of belief that he’ll ever get out.

Crow almost stretched out a hand to shake hers, but she backed away instead.

“Spider’s given us some free time. A reprieve!” Glint informed them, sounding happier than he usually is. He hovered around his grumpy looking Guardian, lightly bumping into him. “Come on Crow, we could use a break! Don’t want you throwing a wrench at me. I can revive you, but you can’t resurrect me.”

Glint had a point.

“Alright. We’ll be here if needed. I’ll be testing my Light until then…” Crow knew his limits, and knew that she had something else to do.

Glint laughed to himself, and turned to Maks. “He’s trying to do some Void things he saw you do. It’s wonderful… and awkward!”

“Glint-!” Crow immediately shushed his little companion, and the involuntary snort that came out of Maks hurt her throat.

“It’s cute!” She laughed, hoping that Crow wasn’t too embarrassed. He looked more confused about seeing an actual smile on her face. Glint looked very pleased, though. “Nightstalkers can be a bit… unconventional. Be caref—”

“Annoying.” Bun corrected her.

“It’s not that Nightstalkers aren’t annoying, which they are.” Maks counter-corrected her Ghost, and very lightly flicked his shell. “You know what I mean. Brat.”

“You’re not the one constantly losing your Guardian!” Bun hmphed. She could channel both Solar and Void, but Void allowed her to hide.

“Osiris keeps me informed about most things, but seems to be stubborn with element choices.” Crow followed her out, as she didn’t seem to mind. She couldn’t tell if he was suppressing his eagerness. He has learned a lot in a short amount of time, expressed interests in books and tales about history. “How did you learn to use that void bow?”

That mind never stopped running.

“From another Nightstalker I couldn’t save in time.” Maks lamented, giving an awkward wave which turned into an even more awkward thumbs up to the Spider when she passed by him. “Tevis. The Vex… when the Vex encounter a Guardian with any sort of notoriety they get hit with a burst of inspiration when it comes to murder.”

“They must have a goal. They don’t read as bloodthirsty to me. But they are vicious, an armed and trained force that has been through time battles. Terrible place for us to be…”

“Osiris has talked your ear off about them, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.” The tone of his was tone of a man who now regrets asking some questions. “Unfortunately. Didn’t make it any less interesting.”

“To get back on track…” She decided to find some lingering Hive to shoot Light bows at. The Shore was oddly empty as a whole. Other Guardians were prioritizing the new riches unearthed in Europa, but Clovis Bray will continue to be low on her priority list. They walked close to each other, and she constantly kept an eye out for other Guardians. “What I meant with Nightstalkers being annoying, is that they get too deep. They can get really obnoxious. Even me, before my Ghost gets insisting on telling some stories!” She whirled around and pointed a finger at him.

“I wasn’t gonna!” Bun teased from behind her. “Not now, at least!”

Maks ignored him. “It’s not just the whole ‘We’re loners who live in the wilds!’ or ‘Use past visions of your own death and the extinction of life’, it’s all of that. It’s really, really boring.” She found Crow listening intently. “Nightstalkers are good people. But when you get to the level where you make it about horrors and ancient nightmares, they’re just awful. You’re just gonna end up getting destroyed. Throw a Void grenade at that Thrall.”

Crow summoned a flimsy looking ball of Void, but his throw was impressive. The Thrall melted quickly. It was very unimpressive.

“Alright. Do it with more conviction.” She ordered. “Shed your fear.”

“What?”

“Find the difference between fear and respect, and cling onto the latter.” She channelled void in her hand, like breathing. The purple energy suddenly took the shape of a bow. In a split second, she jumped up in the air and shot a Hive Knight’s head off, tangling lesser Hive around. She shot a couple of bullets at the Knight, and it and the Acolytes around it screeched to death.

“Okay, now you’re just showing off!”

“The moment you reach trust with the Void, your fear will be gone. When you reach respect, your fear will fade. It’s… tricky to explain.”

“I saw that it started off as a grenade.”

“Yup!” She confirmed.

Another grenade thrown, more solid this time. He still had some road to walk when it came to recharging. The broken Hive ship and various wires holding it up creaked and squeaked soothingly.

“You didn’t say anything about Arc…” Crow stated, while waiting. He had his eyes on another lost thrall.

“That’s because I hate it!”

“It smells like ozone and burning eggs.”

“I know, right?” She saw him locate an Acolyte on the very far end, standing on one of the ledges of the old Hive ship.

“I can definitely hit it from here. Easily.” Crow nodded to himself, and turned to her, with a very smug and cocky smile. “How much do you want to bet?”

“A thousand Glimmer.” The first offer that came into her head.

It was satisfactory enough.

“Watch this!” Crow took aim, summoning what he thought would be a grenade. Sound warped around his hand, energy twisting into the bow. He picked it up instantly, and hit the Acolyte perfectly. Bullseye!

A small memory of a story told to her emerged to the forefront of her vision, pushing out the cheering that he instantly hid.

Somewhere in the Dreaming City, she passed by him and Jolyon Till. The two were laughing, getting ready to depart somewhere. A simpler time.

Maks pushed it forcibly aside.

“Congrats!” She said, managing a proud smile. “Doesn’t count, though!”

“Come on!” Crow complained. “Fine. I’ll get it next time. It feels like a proper hunt now!” He couldn’t wait to summon the next bow.

Maks will have to make a visit to the outskirts of the Dreaming City, she had someone to find.

One person deserved to know. Finding him won’t be easy.

“Strange question, but… do you get any nightmares?” Maks had to make sure. “Wet composts, red flower petals, rich black soil, green rocks, Vex?”

“Nightmares? Yes.” Crow saw her turn paler. “Nothing like that, though. Doesn’t sound familiar. Haven’t even had normal dreams about the Vex. The bed is too uncomfortable for dreams at times. Why?”

“No reason.”


	6. The Rachis.

Maks went with her instinct. A deep rooted instinct, somewhere deep in her psyche. Same way she’s seen Crow flinch at the sight and sound of hand cannons.

She knew where he was.

An old rotten bar, just on the border of the Dreaming City and the Tangled Shore. It stunk of expired alcohol, sweat, and stress. Not many patrons graced it with their presence. There was always one regular. Good thing she couldn’t get a life-threatening disease related to mold spores, she thought. She was grateful that her Ghost couldn’t smell, and was spared the onslaught. Her Ghost was safely hidden, as she had a feeling Guardians weren’t welcome.

Maks took a seat on a chair that was going to break apart any minute.

“What can I get you?” Even the bartender’s voice scowled. The patron next to her was swirling the ice cubes in the almost empty glass, filling the room with clinking.

“Anything.” She wasn’t much of a drinker, but it would be rude not to order. The bartender returned to her with a glass of brown liquid that smelled like wood and a hint of some herbs she didn’t recognize.

“Don’t want to talk to you.” Jolyon Till mumbled. “Go away, ‘Vas.”

She wasn’t sure what to do. Just what to say. She thought it was okay to give him a wink to signal his friend was still alive in some capacity. She was silent because she didn’t want to give him the comfort of knowing that he was still alive.

There was something about being in the dark as a young Guardian, it made her want to lie there.

She wasn’t sure if she was scared to the point where she wanted to go into the night in the dark or if she was just afraid that the monsters might still be out there when she tried to stay awake.

It was in that darkness that she felt like she might die. So, she tried to act out that fear of being in the dark all the time. She put on her best smile as she walked down to the playground, watching her step and looking for the boy in the dark.

With every little move she made, she just hoped that she was in the dark.

Jolyon spoke again, as she kept thinking. “I know I shouldn’t be so critical, but at the end of the day you took the chance and you didn’t choose to live with your mistakes. I understand that’s what happened, but I also want to be fair. If it’s something you don’t want to live with, that’s fine. But you have to face what you chose to do.”

“This isn’t about that.” Just the stench of the alcohol stung her eyes. “I still don’t remember a damn thing about myself.”

“Great. Okay, then.” Jolyon took another sip of what was mostly water now. “You shot him. Or maybe Petra did. I don’t care.”

Two years weren’t enough.

The bartender left to take care of something in the back room, so she took the opportunity to act. She tapped on her earpiece and took it out, so he could hear.

“Crow, any progress updates?”

“ _The usual. Improving on the lure and waiting for Osiris_.” The voice came from her earpiece, at way too loud of a volume. Jolyon froze completely. “ _Do you think if we found an Ahamkara bone in the Dreaming City, we could wish the Hive out of existence?_ ”

Jolyon’s head slowly turned to her. Was this a prank?

“Absolutely not!” Maks and Glint responded at the same time, different words, same sentiment.

“ _… most of the remains were sealed away following the Great Hunt._ ” Glint continued.

“ _I’d like to hear more about that_.” Crow said, softly. “ _Perhaps Spider has some literature_.”

Jolyon’s eyes were glazed underneath the Awoken glow.

He hadn’t heard _that_ voice in a very long time. Voice that he thought died with the Black Garden, a voice he could never forget. Funny, kind of irritating, charming. He covered his mouth with one of his hands, keeping any emotion in.

She carefully put a hand on his shoulder for comfort, and offered him her drink. He needed it way more. Pulling an infuriating joke on him like that would be something Uldren would do, in a different world. One where he didn’t degrade after the Garden.

“Does he remember anything?” His voice was muffled by his hand. He could figure out what happened by himself.

“No, but…” Maks tried to find a way to phrase it. “He has no nightmares about the Black Garden. I’m still trying to figure out how it all works. I don’t know.”

“What’s he like?”

“He has a big heart. He’s putting his skills to noble uses. As smart as you remember him. They’re… they’re both so kind, even though the world is so nasty.” She knew that he was waiting for the punchline. “He’s getting more animated the more time we spend together. He’s too charming to get decked in the face by me for his arrogance over some things.”

“That’s him, alright.” He tried not to laugh, and slowly removed his hand from his mouth. His breathing was shaky. “There were rumors, but I never thought…”

“That’s one of the things.” Maks rudely interrupted. “Petra, the Techeuns… they cannot know. If Petra brings it up, dissuade her.”

“Don’t worry.” Jolyon assured her, and shook his head to get rid of some blurriness. “I need to sober up first.”

“Do you want to see him?”

“I’m… I’m not sure.” The news pushed it straight to a hangover. “I’d need to figure out some feelings. It’s taboo for the Awoken to speak of the old times, but I don’t think I care.”

“It would be fair for you to know that he’s trapped. In a bad situation.” His eyes narrowed at her words. “A Fallen mafia kingpin planted a bomb in his Ghost, so his life is on the line if he tries to ru—” Jolyon broke into a sharp laugh, trapping the rest of the sentence in her throat. “Why the hell are you laughing!?”

Jolyon stopped himself, and cleared his throat several times because he couldn’t make the laugh go away.

It wasn’t funny.

Crow’s life was in danger, and it definitely wasn’t funny.

It wasn’t!

“If you had come in here and told me that some Guardian ended up like that, I would instantly know it was him. No live feed of his idiot voice needed. It sounds exactly like what he would get himself into.” It wasn’t funny. “Did you know he tried to challenge a Vex Gate Lord to a dance battle?”

“Oh, no.” She took her drink back, took a sip, and rubbed her tired eyes with the other hand. “I taught him how to summon a damn Dusk Bow.”

“He shouted at it, ‘Can you dance, sir? Have you got the footwork?’, and the idiot started jigging.” Jolyon shakily recalled the memory, could still feel The Supremacy loose in his hands. “I still don’t know how we… survived.”

It was just another way to put his pain away, to take a break from all of this.

The grin, the joy, the memories. It got gently blown away when he remembered the tragedy of the whole situation. She might not remember, but she knew their story. It was an incredibly difficult time for him, but something he had to live with through all of it. The whole bar had the atmosphere of a funeral.

Jolyon clicked his tongue, and turned his eyes to the melted ice in his glass.

“How the hell did you escape the Black Garden without nightmares?” He strained to not sound infuriated. “How is that fair?”

Maks stared at Jolyon for a moment, and he realized she had her own problems to deal with. He didn’t say anything and he had no reason to, but both of them had a funny way of feeling sorry for someone.

“When you outlive everything you’ve saved, you lose sight of the simple pleasures of being one of the lucky few to be able to stay alive.” Maks took a deep breath. “Because there is only so much time before it happens again. It becomes a nightmare.”

“I guess that’s fair.” Jolyon swallowed. There was one thing. He couldn’t let her leave without her knowing. “You were a Corsair, by the way. A very good one. You might not remember, but you were the one who snitched to me when Uldren did something stupid before Mara would find out. Not to rescue him, up until the Black Garden he got himself out of anything.”

“Hm.” She flashed a small smirk. “Guess it was just instinct.”

“A Fallen mafia kingpin…” The Rachis repeated and held back another laugh, barely. It wasn’t funny. It was sad and emotionally overwhelming and he wanted to collapse. “We’ll get him out of there.” He considered waiting as long as possible to do it, just to spite him a little.

The new name fit him. He deserved a new name after everything. If it was even him. It will take a lot of patience to come to some sort of conclusion.

“I better get going.” Maks saw the bartender return. “I need to make sure that he isn’t using the tethers of the Dusk Bow to tightrope walk.” She waved as she backed away. “I won’t kiss him for you!”


	7. Proud Of You.

Whispers and gossip were uncontained in the City, and Maks found herself in front of Zavala’s cold stare back in the City.

“Uldren Sov is dead. The ripples of his actions are still felt across the Shore. The Awoken buried him in an unmarked location to prevent vengeful Guardians from getting creative.” Maks lied through her teeth, standing stalwart in front of Zavala’s cold gaze. “The Awoken won’t confirm if you contact them. Truth is only shared in emergency with outsiders.”

“Some time ago, Corsair chatter mentioned a stranger with a likeness to Prince Uldren.” Zavala didn’t quite believe her yet. “Petra has her own suspicions. While the relationship between the City and the Awoken is strained, I trust her judgement.”

It was excruciatingly difficult to lie about the Awoken to another Awoken.

“It stopped at a likeness. Awoken are able to delineate their own kind.” She wasn’t going to back down. She was going to dig this hole even deeper. “In a _hypothetical_ world where what you’re saying actually happened, there are a lot of people looking for catharsis, or worse. In that world, there is a young Lightbearer. He is his own person, and he wants to do good.”

“Hypothetically.”

“ _Hypothetically_.” Maks repeated, and bit her tongue.

“Maksim…” Zavala leaned on his desk with both of his hands, slight shocks of Arc energy dancing on his fingers. “What is truly going on here?”

She took a small cautionary step back.

“Xivu Arath is a more pressing issue for me. Osiris is currently in not a state where he can do it alone. If Xivu Arath is left alone, we will have a repeat of what Oryx did to the Awoken fleet but it will be The City this time around.” Maks deflected. “You’ve got hundreds of Lightbearers on Europa, absolutely none on the Shore and Xivu’s forces are growing, with minimal resources and guns on our end to stop her. This is my responsibility. I can’t stay in the City.”

“An unclaimed Guardian—” Zavala bottled the anger, the Arc energy getting more intense. They couldn’t risk all Guardians running in different directions. Europa was doing well, but the Shore has always been out of reach. He will never shed tears over Uldren’s death, and he was awaiting the consequence. It appears that it finally arrived.

Maks’ motives were never clear to anyone. He wondered if she was truly prioritizing the life of one loose Guardian over thousands of civilians.

“We are protectors, not conquerors of people.” Maks started to outright plead, taking a slight step towards him. “Please! You, Ikora, Saint… you can protect the City better than me.”

“I noticed that you refuse to practice the usage of Stasis.” Stasis wielders had an aura around them, hanging in the perfect balance but at risk to be tipped at any moment.

“Because I disagreed with it.”

“Disagreed?”

It took her aback that he sounded curious, and not outraged.

“I did not choose to dent my life to become an equal to the Light. I just chose to live on after my world was destroyed, not as one of the people who died.”

What more could she do? She chose to be the Light, she did not choose to be the Light. She chose to live in the reality that came into being as the Light. It wasn’t enough to budge Zavala. It felt like a losing fight. All she asked for was him to cut off the tether she has with the City, not even an immunity.

“That may be enough to get me to trust you with your choice of endeavours.” Zavala straightened himself. “I don’t know what comes next. But I know – I know – that we must remain in the Light. I see fractures already. If we bend, we will break. Guardians must not use the Darkness. This is the Vanguard’s official position. The people of this City look to us. Help me show them the way. The people of this City need you more than ever.”

“No. I think we all need each other, and I believe that the only way we can keep the Light from tearing us apart is to unite, and do our part to help one another.” Last shot. She was so tired, and running out of words. “I am helping the young Guardian, as right now it feels like the only thing I have the energy for. The Pyramids…” Maks cut herself off to stop her from oversharing.

She was too stubborn too leave, but it felt awkward to stand there. Maybe she had to make another move. Maybe she wasn’t so stubborn at all. She was just waiting until she thought she could win the argument. Just a little. She had made this decision. That’s why she was too stubborn to take the option to leave.

“Cayde would be proud of you.” Zavala’s deep voice melted her guard. “I remember that he believed in you the same way you believe in that young Guardian. You never let him down. He wanted you to succeed, not to be an icon of something greater and noble.”

Maks felt something inside her shiver, trapping her breath in her throat. Zavala saw it too.

The stalwart Titan carried on. “I hope that you saw the sincerity of his devotion to your success. I hope you are willing to go great lengths for this… freedom, and I know you will, Guardian. _Be careful, as we may be about whom you choose to sacrifice, or the lives you end up saving. Don’t allow hate, however bitter, to conquer us, but rather know it’s the Light that will save us_.”

“Was that The Speaker?” She barely remembered his voice.

“It was.” Zavala nodded. “Be brave.”

* * *

He woke up aching from the poor excuse of a bed provided to him. It was more comfortable to sleep on the floor at times. Crow slowly opened his eyes to see sharp light cut into his eyes, and Glint hovering over him.

Was this a restart?

“Morning, Crow!”

It wasn’t. Couldn’t decide if he was happy with it or not. The room was actually more like a claustrophobic closet.

“Morning…” Crow mumbled, trying to blink exhaustion away from his eyes. His nose picked up a really pleasant smell in the usually dingy room.

“Oh! You just missed Maks!” Glint let him know, and flied over to a box on Crow’s workshop. “She brought over some food from the Last City! Said she used it to test Engram compression, but I think that she was just being nice.”

The smell alone made Crow rush over to it, startling the Ghost.

The ramen was possibly the best he had eaten in his new life. He almost felt sad that his Ghost couldn’t have it. Perfect blend of spice and flavour. He wondered what kind of agreement she struck with Spider for him to allow her to smuggle this in.

She’s heard him mention in passing how he’d like to visit the City someday, during their idle conversations as they waited for the Wrathborn to take the bait. Any talks about the outside world of the Shore and Dreaming City were cut off by Osiris.

“I’ll have to remember to thank her. For everything.”

As their days went on, he saw her become less pensive, that initial frigidness melting. The concept of having a Lightbearer friend was still odd to process.

“You’ve really come out of your shell ever since you met her.” Glint observed. Crow has become more talkative, braver, and maybe a bit more smug. “She also told me that she’ll be gone today. We’re ahead of schedule, anyway. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Hope it’s nothing bad…”

“Worried?”

“Not for her.”

He noticed that Maks brought along some other trinkets in the box. A small red coupon with letters he didn’t recognize, a metal bowl with Arc silver inside, two old books, what he believed was a lantern with a star on it, and some round pieces of copper he didn’t recognize.

Glint curiously analyzed it. “Reminds me of those noisy decorations in the new Tower. It’s like she brought you a tiny piece of the place.”

Carefully, as not to rip it, Crow took the paper lantern and put it over the lamp on the metal desk. The star decoration in it became a lot clearer and lit up the room a gentle orange. Couldn’t help but smile. He'll have to hide all of this later from the Spider. But just for a couple of minutes, it was nice.

Spider’s gruff voice in the other room reminded him to get back to work.

“Hey, Glint. What did you mean by ‘ _several notable achievements_ ’?”

“Uh…”

“Glint.”

“Run that by Spider really quickly…?”

Crow understood the point.

* * *

“ _This one’s for the strong, silent type._

_You._

_Congratulations, buddy._

_I mean that. Always knew you’d outdo me some day. And if that means you had to do me in, too… eh, you saved my life on Nessus, so I owed it to you anyway._

_Take care of the Ace of Spades, will ya? I’m not just talking about the maintenance; Banshee can help you with all that. I mean, take care of Ace. Use it well._

_Oh, hey, and… if you found any of those papers from my earlier… eh… deployments? Burn ‘em. Don’t want people poking through the lives of Caydes 0 through 5. So just… put it all behind you, OK?_

_Every story has an end. This is mine_.”

She has replayed it several times now.

Maks has become more talkative since he died. Maybe as a coping mechanism. She doesn’t say anything now, just sits and stares into purple space as it plays again and again and again. One of the few remnants she has.

Eventually she says, “I believe there’s something in the air here… it feels…”

Her voice is low, even through the darkness, almost inaudible, and she sounds too young to have been here. It’s almost as though all the sounds were coming from outside. It takes her a long moment to realise what she’s saying.

“I… I don’t know…” Her voice breaks. Her eyes turn to the stars in the sky.

Finally, there’s silence for a while, it’s really quiet but it gets louder and louder. Then all hell breaks loose in her head again. Maks has to face the fact that there will be nothing to stop the voices of evil bastards wanting her dead any longer, she can handle it. Sound of the Pyramids creaking, blood and glass everywhere. She can smell their presence. The thought of the dark, strange creature was terrifying.

“Massive quantities of Dark Ether?” Bun tried to help.

“Probably.” She almost fell off the wires she was sitting on as she tried to shake off the wooziness. There was a great view of the Shore where she was sitting. “Do you think that if I keep digging this hole, I will eventually find freedom on the other side?”

“What are we up to with Spider?”

“I killed all the escapees, but that was apparently not enough. Xivu’s forces seem to center around waning leadership. The Shore is no place for opposition to him.” Maks thought out loud. “I don’t even know what is a debt any more. Considerations, mights, and maybes, unless he can benefit. If not for Crow, I wouldn’t care.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“I think he will soon be in panic mode. One option is that he will weaken and provide leeway, other option is that he will dig deeper and place further debts and drag us down with him.” What a horrible situation. “If I know my Hive gods, which I should, their structures will still remain after we’ve killed them.”

“So, the Shore won’t be saved, and you’ll still have your debt. And Crow…”

“Yup! Unless the grace and luck of The Traveler strikes us...”

There was one option. Either one of them had to suggest it.

“What if we could—”

“I’m not putting you through that again.”

“It wasn’t pleasant, but if it means we could get Glint and Crow out of here…” Bun persisted, trying to catch her gaze. “I was mostly angry that my Guardian was stolen from me.”

“The only Ghost that could help us with that plan is dead.” Maks hadn’t thought about Sagira much. She was somewhere on the list of things to think about. She’ll get to it, but not now. “I’m not risking both of your lives. You’re all I have. Please…”

Maks gently held his shell before letting him go. They’ve been through so much. Bun will never be on a list of sacrifices for a greater good. Never.

Sacrificing him would be sacrificing the world.

He understood.

“I know… I shouldn’t have.” Bun said. “I’ll see if Osiris has any ideas.”

The Ghost glanced at her face again, wishing that she would talk to him about how she feels. She’s been to a lot of funerals that weren’t really a way to celebrate the dead.

“You’ve been a little sad.” Bun tried to not be too overbearing. “You’ve been trying to find a way to fight more, but that doesn’t help.”

“I know.” She closed her eyes. “Just give me time.”


	8. Control.

Another Wrathborn hissed as life faded away from its remains on their plane. As mindless as ever, both for the Guardian fighting and for the Wrathborn. She looted whatever remained, seeking traces of Hive. Eris wasn’t exactly answering her calls, either. To her it all became a meaningless chore with its only purpose being to melt time away.

“ _Xivu Arath’s influence spread so quickly after the Pyramids swept through the system_.” Crow said.

“ _She is emboldened by the presence of the Darkness_.” Osiris added, and Glint sighed at the realization.

“ _Io, Mars, Mercury, Titan… I can’t believe they’re gone_.”

Maks appreciated their company in the earpiece on the hunts, but wished it came without the pressure to contribute to it.

“Yeah. That was… _terrible_.” She sighed, practically wincing at herself. The word did feel hollow to her. When she finally felt a chill rise within her, she could hardly make it through, her mind trying to find a more appropriate response. Forcing herself to look up at the distant and glowing exit out of the cave, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the memory of the Pyramids inching in. “I don’t know what it is.” Maks muttered softly.

An awkward silence descended on her.

No, she wouldn’t let herself go there again, she would stay calm and steady and not let the pain get to her. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t afraid, only _terrified_.

“ _Think that’s it for the day_.” Glint’s voice rang. He knew that the Guardians wanted to continue, but _someone_ had to force them to take a break. “ _Remember that with every Wrathborn, we’re getting closer to the High Celebrant. Go team_.”

“I’ll set up my camp in the Four-Horn Gulch in case you need me.” She wasn’t sure if she _needed_ more time alone, but Shore gave her no choice. Stones upon floating rocks, dark ether, chaos which refused to let her be. She thought she had grieved this place.

“ _How about the Empty Tank?_ ” Glint suggested, and she immediately raised an eyebrow at what he might be planning. He wasn’t as inconspicuous as he thought. “ _We want to thank you for that present_.”

“I think I’m not allowed in there based on a… er, technicality?” She latched her trusty sword on her back and wiped off Wrathborn goo from her boots.

“ _I’m sure Crow can talk to them_.”

“I guess.” Maks took off the helmet and rubbed the back of her neck. Something was too normal about it. “I’ll meet you both there?”

“You sounded less nervous when we set out to kill Oryx.” Her Ghost observed.

“It’s so…” She couldn’t find fitting words again. “It’s not a ‘stab this goo-oozing creature’. It’s not a _date_ , either.”

“Do you remember the last time you did anything for fun?”

“I see your point.” She reached up to touch her neck again, then took a deep breath, her voice rising more in pitch. “Shush.”

* * *

Her welcome to the bar was a bullet shot straight into her shoulder, but the tension stopped when the bouncer Fallen noticed Crow not too far behind.

“She’s a friend.” Crow explained as her Ghost was healing her, and the small Fallen bouncer punched a button to open up the old door. Inside, there were a few Fallen sitting in their respective corners, and a couple of shanks with drinks on them. Maks found them oddly cute when they weren’t shooting at her on sight. She won’t claim that she didn’t deserve it.

“Cr—oow!” An Eliksni captain barked out over the lively warbled music at the sight of the Guardian.

“They won’t shoot you.” Crow told Maks. “Eliksni aren’t unreasonable if you use words.”

“Uh-huh.” She left all of her weapons on her ship, for prosperity. “Not that I disagree…” She swore she heard another bullet whoosh past her hair, while at the same time wondering how Taniks would have handled words. “Guess you know that Captain?”

“He knows me.” Four drinks were served to them, courtesy of the Captain she guessed. “Two drink minimum. Learned the hard way.”

“I suppose I’ve done way worse things on this Shore…” She sat down on the barstool, which looked like repurposed Fallen ship tech, and smelled the drink. Not so much to her surprise, it smelled like the fuel that would have been found in the ship. She went for it, regretting it instantly. It felt like the carbon that would have formed when the ship had been vaporized by a supernova and burned up, and it tasted like it.

“It’s terrible!” Crow exclaimed, watching Maks down the second drink out of respect for the rules. He chose to take his time with his own foul drinks.

“Damn…” She coughed, hoping to never repeat this experience again. “Liquid death.”

“Humbling to see you actually struggle with something.” He joked and she shook her head with a smile. “Guess we found a way to kill Xivu Arath. Only if we would be granted the gift of a god that is felled by us simply throwing jet-coolant drinks at it.”

“If we could turn it into a sword…” She could still feel the horrid taste of it when she tried to talk. The world around her was filled with still music and sounds of clicking, just in harmony enough to be calming. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was not quite as powerful as she needed to be. She took a deep breath, and shook herself free of her thoughts. “I do understand. I think that I would like to not be… _this_. If I really could be anything else. That would be something I could really understand.”

“I get that. I could have been an interplanetary smuggler.” Crow said, with an air of confidence. “Instead we’re here, trying to spare lives from Xivu’s torture. It never ends.”

“We can make a difference.” Maks didn’t want him to go down the path she’s been walking. A quick moment of silence took place, and then she continued, “But I also believe that even if you do follow the script, you still won’t get what you want.”

The point she wanted to make, that the kind of idea of a person who lived in a lie was what was wrong with the situation. She has seen it, and what it does, it’s just what has to happen until the High Celebrant is taken care of. What she’s seen is what makes a lie so reprehensible. She’s afraid that he’s in a place he can’t get out of.

_Something_ will come through, she hoped. An opportunity to exploit a loop. 

“I’m grateful that I’m on your good side during this nightmare. It’s a shame I never met you before. Maybe would have never died in the first place.”

Maks was smiling that smug, amused smile that seemed to be there because he hadn’t noticed, or was not aware of, the irony of his reply. She might not have shot him, but she once did chase him with murderous intent.

Or, what _used_ to be him.

She still hasn’t figured it out yet.

“You’d have found a way to die, I’m sure of it.”

Crow almost wanted to flat out ask about what she knew about his life, but he stopped himself as if he knew that he wasn’t going to get a response. She made a promise, that she was going to tell him later. Maks didn’t exactly try to obfuscate that she knew him from before. Whether it was in her Guardian life or her Awoken life prior, he was still unsure.

‘ _Bad Actor’_ , as he remembers her saying.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but Osiris doesn’t paint you as someone who would believe in other people.” Crow said out of nowhere. “Or _care_.”

Osiris wasn’t well informed about events that are outside of his interests. Her smile got replaced with something else. Perhaps for just a moment, there was something in her expression that made him think that she was sad. She never did anything in a way that didn’t imply that she didn’t feel anything. She cleared her throat, banishing away things she didn't intend to show.

“I had a friend who would be disappointed with me if I wouldn’t try my damnest to help you. I owe him.” Maks hasn’t talked out loud about him for two years. People bringing up stories about him or asking her about what happened always stole her ability to speak. “Well, I don’t think we were friends. But, he was someone who introduced normality of sorts into this… hellish world I was resurrected to. The others spoke big words about the Light and the philosophical meaning of it. He was a friend to me, despite me being a brat to him. I cared about him.” It was starting to hurt so much she found herself wishing for several gallons more of the awful drink.

“Sounds familiar to what happened to me during my first days here. Thought that Spider would be that, and, well… I realized that Glint was all I had.” Crow shook his head. “What happened to your friend?”

Now, she found herself on dangerous ground. When people needed help and Cayde could do the helping, he would help. Do good. Be good. Push the limits. Take back what’s ours. And all of that. Even in her best state, she couldn’t take telling the story. It was going to be too much for both of them to take. 

“A bad hand. Sometimes you’re dealt one, sometimes it’s time to die.” Maks breathed out slowly, past the lump in her throat. “I think if anything, I think he would have understood what it’s like to have your life taken from you, to be used as a pawn.” After breathing that last syllable out, she turned to him, face full of worry.

Crow realized that he really shouldn’t try and force it on her. What a loss to her and all of them. Maybe one day she’ll be given closure.

“…You’re talking about the Wrathborn, right?” Glint rushed into their conversation, knowing that his life was on the line the longer this conversation went on.

Who knew at this point. With everything that happened to both of them, it could be about literally anything.

The Spider couldn’t use that against her.

Both of them followed the rules, no matter how arbitrary the Spider liked them.

“I think we could use some cheering up before Spider calls us back.” Crow said, standing up from the chair. “There is a fighting ring deep into this bar, want to investigate?”


	9. This Place.

More downtime. It felt like it was getting harder and harder to lure out Wrathborn. Perhaps they were planning something, which wasn’t good. Their search through the Ascendant Realm yielded very little, but they still had ways to go.

One step forward, two steps back into the Hellmouth. A repetition. 

Downtime meant _thinking_. She could perhaps try to be charitable, help out the Corsairs with patrol duty.

Maks saw the exodus some time ago almost like an experiment to establish whether she was prepared to make a conscious choice in her life in order to pursue a change for good. Only Ana survived, as far as she was aware. Remains were unaccounted for. She was too scared to find out what became of Sloane and Asher. Maybe it was just as simple as The Traveler testing her diplomacy skills, of which were severely lacking.

She could have done so much more.

Whispers of the Dreaming City were calm that day. Crow was allowed to follow along with her, the Corsairs had cleared the hunting path so they were of no worry. They figured it was better to take precautions and not simply wait to see how long it’ll take until the Awoken fall to Xivu’s song. She’s heard rumors that the Awoken who aren’t trapped in the loop have begun leaving the Dreaming City for good, and soon it will be an uninhabited husk.

Maybe somewhere in this place was her parents’ house, or her childhood friend’s house that she could go and see, find the only person who would be able to help her see her own life.

In the silence between them they waited, as if the wind would sweep away them in it’s swift, black whirlwind, before they would catch their breath again and they know that this soon it will all be not an empty feeling of disappointment, or anything they wanted to deny or excuse, but a feeling of utter triumph. That’s what kept them going.

“The Dawning’s in a couple of days…” Crow stated, recalling a hurtful memory. She hasn’t given a reason to not trust her. “Or so I’ve heard from Glint. Keeping track of time is difficult on the Shore.”

“Guess you spent your last one alone?”

“Just me and Glint, hiding.” Crow was spinning a flimsy solar knife on and off, couldn’t quite get it to burn for a very long time. He was improving with every spin. “Camped out in some rusted-out shipping container. Other Lightbearers went between refusing to talk to me to trying to shoot me, or worse. Told me the world would be a lot more peaceful without me. It was like they were grieving someone. Glint remained as optimistic as ever, though.”

Maks was the first Guardian who didn’t have that hostile reaction to him, but he didn’t know how to say that. Instead she was just an older, wiser, and more responsible companion. She frowned at the story, loosening her crossed arms. It’s a story of fear: fear, fear, fear. Of pain and vulnerability. Of how things they can’t control seem more than what they can. It’s like a drug. “That’s horrible.”

He sighs, and looks up. It’s a bit like he’s waiting for her to say something more.

“I…” She struggled. Wasn’t about her. He didn’t need to hear her story. “You’re not alone anymore, Crow. Or… I hope you don’t feel alone. I’ll bring you a piece of the celebration. Don’t think I can smuggle in snow, but cookies should work.”

Corners of his lips curled up slightly, but instantly faded away when he saw someone in the distance. “There is that woman again…”

Maks whirled her head to look at where he was looking at, and - surely enough - Petra Venj was in the far-off distance.

_Nope._

“Royal Awoken never make things easy…” She gritted her teeth. “Why can’t you make this easy? Just for once?”

“You know her?” Crow staggered. “I think she’s been following me.”

Without saying a word, she threw down a smoke bomb to hide them both from sight. She was almost overjoyed that she channeled the right one and didn’t disorient them both to death.

“Don’t move.” Maks whispered, standing closer to him to keep the cloaking orb as small as possible. She counted down the seconds in her head until it was time to throw another bomb. It took some concentration and outright prayer to the Traveler, but she managed to regenerate another one just in time. “She’s no one either of us should talk to.”

_6, 5, 4, 3, 2…_

It almost hurt to throw the third one.

_6, 5, 4, 3, 2…_

Fourth. She was using the last of her Light reserves. They were still hidden. She started to count again, just in time for Petra to get a message from a Paladin, forcing her to relocate to the northern part of the Dreaming City. The cloak wore off just in time. Maks could swear she could see the glint of The Supremacy in the distance, but she was betting that various orbs in her vision where the result of her abusing her Light.

An old Sunsinger taught her this trick many moons ago, but she was out of practice.

“Maks…” Crow saw her struggling to stand.

“I’m fine.” She needed to breathe. If it were because of the anger or the exhaustion was yet to be determined. “I do not hate my own people, but I do wish they would understand freedom from this cursed city is not their enemy.”

He’s never heard her this furious before, so he took more than a couple steps back just to be on the safe side. He’s seen her in combat dozens of times by this point. As timing would have it, a Wrathborn fell straight into their trap and she was able to put the anger into something productive. She leaped, and suddenly she was gone, emerging in flashes, holding two knives tearing everything asunder. The ogre screamed as it was almost teared into small pieces. She was gone chasing after the Wrathborn before he could react.

“Did I miss something important?” Glint emerged, as Bun was now gone so they couldn’t get into friendly arguments about statistics. “Channel’s secure…”

“There’s a woman who’s taken notice of me.”

Glint scoffed. “Took you this long to notice? Now’s not really the time for romance…”

Crow didn’t even acknowledge it. _Priorities_. 

“I’ve tried to lose her in the mists before, but she’s very skilled. Maks almost injured herself hiding me from her.”

Glint discarded his jokes. “Wait… does she have an eye-patch?”

“Do you know her, too?”

“I know she’s someone you should avoid. Uh, a conversation for another time.”

* * *

“Stupid.” _Kick_. “Piece.” _Kick_. “Of.” _Kick_. “Shit!”

A chunk of the Wrathborn’s corpse had disintegrated from her kicking alone.

“ _Have you gotten it all out of your system yet?_ ” Osiris chided her.

She kicked the Knight one last time for good measure.

“No. I haven’t.”

“ _Put whatever history you have with Awoken aside until all Wrathborn are defeated. We aren’t given freedom for getting side tracked_.”

“I’m no longer tolerating their… ‘if we shall have our way, we shall have your mind, your soul, and all of your freedom’.” Maks spoke with the highest and most royal Awoken accent she could conjure. She continued, because she still had an abundance of energy: “’You are an enemy of our religion. You have forsaken us. And so, I shall put your spirit into pieces! You will fall under the spell of our dark gods. And if you resist my will, you will be destroyed. In time, everything will be ours. Your body will be mine. And then if you resist me, I shall make you become my pet!’”

Osiris had long since disconnected, out of what she assumed was immense frustration.

_That’s fair._

Maybe she wanted to hear what it all meant. Then, the rage shot through her, but what was supposed to come out of it was _nothing at all_. Why in the world would anyone even keep asking her to go along with any of it?

“I’m glad I kicked you out of the channel that quick…” Bun sighed in relief. “You’re going to be okay?”

“Nope.” A spin kick for the dead Ogre, just for the satisfaction. There was something satisfying in the wiggle. “This sucks! _Thinking_ about this _sucks_!”

“We can’t hide him forever, but I’m sure that Petra will be kept at bay. It’s Crow’s choice the end of the day, but I don’t think he’ll go back to what his life used to be. I think you’re one of the people he trusts the most.”

She put her hands on her hips and made an incomprehensible noise, resembling a growl. What she was doing right now, wasn’t what it all was for, anyway. A new twist and a new twist and a new twist. Even with all the twists, the twists always looked like an unending loop.

It didn’t matter if she could pull that last one kill off, or if she could pull off a second one that would make everything just… _right_. It wouldn’t matter if she was at the height of her powers, she was going to pull that last trick. Or, if she lost it. It’d always be worse than anything that had ever come before.

And here it was again. It hurt like an old hole in her head that couldn’t close.

What did she want to happen with that long outburst just minutes before? When she put her anger down, she was surprised. She was like a child. Her head was supposed to fall out, but in the heat of the moment it didn’t.

Why would she feel angry about anything? It was so childish.

She was only shouting and everyone could see the anger in her.

For whatever reason, the whole thing had gotten her too caught up with her world, too much caught up. The only thing she has ever felt confident about is her capacity for dealing with such things alone, but the Pyramids changed it.

That moment was the first time she asked herself, ‘ _What the hell now_?’

It would take time for her to grow.

“Fine. Let’s carry on. Want to knock out few more Wrathborn.” She said to herself, a bit of despair burning in her stomach. “We didn’t do everything we could. I hate this place.”


	10. Don't Get Close.

“Hey, Maks?”

“Yeah?” Her head snapped to attention. Crow was fixing up the lure using the tech she had brought to him, it was overdue for some improvements.

“Do you know of a Lightbearer named Siegfried?”

“Siegfried? I’ve heard that he’s of the Praxic Order, and I also know that I and the Order are not allowed to talk to eachother.” Maks returned to sharpening her blade. Gotten too careless with it. “If _they_ ask, I don’t know him. Why?”

“He and I got into a fight some time ago, way before we met. He kept stalking me demanding to know who I was, wouldn’t let me go.” Crow said, trying to get into a tricky spot with the wrench. “Wondering if he was someone trustworthy after everything I learned about Lightbearers.”

“Did you get any hits in?”

“He put up a fight. I wounded him with a Golden Gun, got him to leave me alone.”

“Nice! Gotta get you a ‘Nighthawk one day so that you can explode him next time.” Maks realized that she missed the Crucible a little bit right then, yet hoped that Spider didn’t overhear the suggestion to get Crow a Light-channelling helmet. Crow raised an eyebrow at her excitement over exploding another Guardian. She cleared her throat. “Not that I would endorse such a thing outside of the Crucible. And… no. Best to stay away from Praxic Order members. They’re relatively harmless, but very annoying.”

“As annoying as Nightstalkers?” Crow asked jokingly, then dodged her Void imbued knife without any effort. He knew that if she wanted to, that knife would kill him.

“No. Nightstalkers get so deep, in fact, that they start talking nonsense and don’t understand anything anyone else does, and suddenly you have a problem.” She stood up to remove the knife from the wall behind him and resumed the knife sharpening on the chair. “Praxic Order members start talking somewhat justifiable nonsense and it turns into a problem.”

“I can now see how it led to a situation where you’re not allowed to talk to each other.”

“Would you—” Maks scowled at him, and he laughed at how annoyed she got at his jokes. He liked that it was a little funny but mostly because it was kind of stupid. She knew him well enough by now to know he was just messing around. “I liked you better when you were dramatic and brooding.”

“What was the disagreement about?” He flipped the lure upside down, inspecting it. Few more things to install. Conversations helped to pass the time, and Glint enjoyed a friendly Ghost around him too.

“Uh…” Maks leaned her head back, feeling the headache incoming. She didn’t want to feel angry again. “It’s a long story. I think it’s better for some people to live lives in which life is not meaningful.”

“Harsh!”

Maks shrugged, and returned her attention to her blade. She tested around some new tricks to conceal it, use Light trickery to make it appear like something else. She never got around to practicing using a Golden Gun too much, maybe she thought she could never live up to the others. Using a Golden Gun required you to stand still, visible, and vulnerable as you took aim.

The aim was crucial, but that was also why it was a weakness. It became a much more dangerous game. She was never one for that.

To her, there was no time, and her best choice was never even to even think.

Tethering enemies and stabbing them from the shadows was simply more satisfying. The more you used this technique, the more you won, but the more enemies you would have to deal with at a time.

It was impossible to play this game in a calm state with no anxiety and no expectation of victory. Not even because the only outcome it was possible to score was a clean draw.

“Almost done.” Crow said, sensing the pressing impatience of the Spider.

“I’ll update the Spider.”

She walked into him mid complaining about his salvage team being late. As per usual. He leaned forward, eyeing her sternly when she entered his sight.

“While I appreciate you taking care of my Lightbearer and enjoying his company, you spoil him with very pretty dreams. Don’t let him get so close.” Spider fidgeted with the dead Ghost in his hand. “He will be so disappointed in you. I cannot give him that pleasure.”

“He is almost done upgrading the lure.” Maks crossed her arms, pretending that the Eliksni didn’t say anything. “Hunts will resume momentarily. High Celebrant’s head will be yours soon.”

A couple of weeks, at very luckiest. She didn’t want to make him angry enough to risk further harm to Glint.

“Good.” Spider leaned back in his throne. “How about the shipment I requested from Old Chicago?”

Maks has been doing extra jobs to compensate, while acknowledging the disgust in her stomach over contributing to the problem. The Spider could never say no to old Earth art, and hopefully, small favours like that will add up to something she can exchange.

Either that, or try to fall asleep and fail.

“On its way. Been having trouble pulling my associates away from Europa, but I got confirmation that it’s being delivered, led by Rosaline Rilla.”

“I know her. Another Awoken in Spider’s web. I suspect she hasn’t been briefed on our current… predicament?”

“No. I tasked her with it because I know she understands the concept of it not being polite to ask questions.”

“Ha!” Spider laughed. “Always happy to have a businesswoman of such means. Very well. Tell her she can stay. I might have a task for her.” The Spider gripped the dead Ghost in his hand tightly with his claw again, almost crushing it. “What’s with that frown? Was I too nice or didn’t you get the point?” He growled.

“I’ll let her know.” Maks nodded, and dismissed herself.

Crow smiled at the work he did to the lure.

“It needs charging, but it should work better now.” He said as she picked it up. She couldn’t claim that she understood the science of it. The whole thing was just … complicated. He found a way to fill it with Soulfire, yet refused to share the secrets.

But she could recognize the magic in it.

Her Ghost stored it away. “Good job.”

“You don’t seem too happy.” Glint observed the frown on her face, her gaze not really focusing on anything.

“Just feeling tired.” Maks brushed the hair out of her face, preparing for another day of repetition. “You did good.”

* * *

Maks didn’t absorb what happened that day. Numbers wise, everything was excellent. Broke a new record on daily Wrathborn exterminations, to no progress. She laid down on the cold ground of the cave in front of the fire, and closed her eyes. It all has become so automatic, repetitive. Maks wondered what it was that Cayde had, that made it feel like every day was progress. Perhaps Xivu Arath learned something from the fall of her brother, and chose a war of attrition instead.

The noise had a strange effect on her ears. There was a sense of unease, but somehow she wasn’t really afraid of it. The Light was going off in her, like a fire in the pit of her stomach. She was sure it all was coming from the ceiling. When she opened her eyes, she could make out some shapes. Something crawling under the ceiling, like some kind of insects, crawling and moving around.

A huge creature, about as large as a Hive Knight with gigantic wings. It opened its mouth to spew out a stream of fire. Maks tried her hardest to make sense of it, but it was impossible to understand it. It looked just like she had seen in her nightmares. The creature had eyes, but there was an eye in the fire as well. Her eyes were focusing so hard that she wasn’t sure if she could see anything but a pale light.

She was almost blinded by the fire when she woke up again. It all felt more like a hallucination than a dream.

“ _Maks?_ ” She heard Crow’s voice through the earpiece. “ _Are you awake?_ ”

She shifted until she was on her back, looking at the mossy cave ceiling instead.

“Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes, trying to figure out her surroundings. The world between a dream and world of being awake was hard to escape. “I’m right here.”

“ _I… think this might be easier in person_.” He whispered after some time.

Without hesitation, she made her way back, hoping that she won’t find the Spider dead and Crow needing advice. They didn’t have room for another murder on the Shore on their schedules.

When she finally got there, she carefully walked up to him and waited for him to speak. He leaned against the workbench; his head bowed. He’s tried talking to Glint about it, but they both figured someone with more Guardian experience than him could provide better answers.

“That Wrathborn we killed today. Reminded me of Savek.” He began. “A salvager Dreg. We’d worked together a few times out on the Shore. A few days ago, I saw her in a horde of Wrathborn. Managed to isolate her. Drag her away. Restrain her.”

He refused to meet her eyes. “I tried to get through to her, to reach the Savek I knew, but she fought so hard to free herself that she nearly tore one of her arms off.”

Crow swallowed and she could see his throat jump.

Silence, then: "I didn’t know what else to do, so I gave her what peace I could. And I’m still trying to get past that.”

“You did the right thing.”

“Did I?” For some reason, he doubted himself. Crow couldn’t stop thinking about his friend and how she looked at him like she was about to kill him. All that guilt left him as if he had always been there and had done nothing. He couldn't help but wonder if Maks was actually in the mood for some serious conversation. He could only hope that she was.

“Your first instinct was kindness. Having the ability to do that in a cruel world makes you a better Lightbearer than most I’ve met.”

Crow briefly looked up, still not meeting her eyes. Not knowing what else to say, she leaned against the table right next to him. His clenched fists were shaking slightly. Constant loss around them didn’t grant either of them a gift of sleep. Ghosts could go into overdrive taking care of their Guardians only so much.

Maks opened up her hand as an invitation, and his fist naturally rolled into her open palm. She squeezed his hand, absentmindedly. He, being a Lightbearer, can’t be in this world without trying to help others. A Lightbearer is willing to do anything, no matter the expense.

Crow could never figure out where she came from, or why she was there in the first place. He spent a long time trying to figure out why she stuck around and was nice to him, as though trying to understand her as though she was an idea. Or, she was someone other than what he had thought her to be… and he couldn't understand it, couldn't understand where her own motivations and feelings had come from either.

“You don’t mind taking the brunt of that cruelty because you have the means, the courage, and the will to resist it.” He spoke softly. Just some hours ago he was arrogantly flaunting about how the Taken don’t frighten him, and how the Scorn are afraid of him.

“I don’t think any of us have those means.”

They stood there for a long while, listening to the humming of the room. It sounded like everyone was talking to somebody, but couldn’t quite make out who. They didn’t need to say anything more.

“Thank you.” His tone sounded sincere and sweet. “With everything getting to me, it’s nice to have you around—”

That strange ethereal electrical whooshing went off behind them, to reveal two Ghosts. They’re always on their own little adventures when they get the chance.

“Oh… Are we… interrupting?” Glint glanced at their locked hands, which became unlocked in an instant. He wasn’t going to ask questions he desperately wanted to ask. “Oh…”

Maybe now The Traveler was awake, it could provide him with an instructional booklet for these situations.

Bun was by his side, ready for rescue.

“Rosalie is here. Needs help with the shipment.”


	11. Ghost.

If the Scorn were intelligent enough to build a Walker of their own, it would look like Rosaline’s armor. Chains, spikes, all coloured copper and grey, a child of the Shore. The red face paint on her forehead and yellow glowing eyes made her look as if she were perpetually bleeding from her head.

Quite a… terrifying sight at first.

“We’ve known each other for years, first Awoken she met, ‘sides from Zavala. Maks always looked like she was trying to come across like an idiot, like she didn’t even know what she was talking about.” Rosaline told Crow as they finished up unloading the ship, much to Maks’ annoyance as the Hunter approached them both. “You know, it’s kind of funny! Because her speech was actually pretty funny when she was a young Guardian, but also she would be like, ’ _You think it’s cute?_ ’ and I’d be like, ’ _Yeah, just for me_.’ She was so good with that!”

“Shut up!” Maks glared daggers at the Titan. “Shut up, Rosalie!” She repeated, trying to not look flustered. “Get out of here!”

The Titan laughed heartily, picking up the last of the boxes to be carried over to the Spider.

“It’s a shame you went this route to hell, you’re so sweet!” Rosalie laughed again, and didn’t stop until she was at the Spider’s lair.

“The things I do to get Spider off my ass.” Maks huffed.

“She didn’t seem to recognize me at all.” Out of all Guardians that he has met, Awoken were always a little bit kinder, but their faces were still shrouded with grief. Others usually went straight for the attack, without any time for words.

Worst were the ones who left him to slowly die, maybe it was not a coincidence that those were the Guardians who wore the shiniest armor.

He can’t say he was used to these developments. But at this point, he’ll be surprised if Maks brings on anything he’s used to.

“She makes a deliberate choice to not get involved in anything that has to do with the Awoken. Dreaming City doesn’t exist to her.” Maks explained. She picks her associates very carefully. “Some time ago I helped her out of a pinch that had to do with the Dreaming City, and she helped me out with… finishing an assignment on Europa.”

“Wish others had thought of that.”

“Ignorance is bliss, I suppose.” Maybe she should be more grateful for the fact that The Traveler makes one forget everything upon revival. “Some old pests of the past came up in the EDZ, so I’ll give you some peace for a day or two. She’ll keep the peace with the Wrathborn. You’ll be safe.”

“Maksim!” Rosalie called out. “Fight me.”

_Titans._

Maks spoke too soon.

“Shaxx will not be happy…” Maks tried to make an excuse.

“Since when do you care about what Shaxx thinks?” Rosaline rolled her eyes, putting on her lion-face shaped helmet. “Do you think he reprimands everyone who’s been beatin’ up innocent Guardians around here?”

“I like the quiet here. He smells the scent of a fight and his Redjacks get here.”

Without a warning, Maks leapt up and unleashed a flurry of Solar knives. Rosaline was more than ready, and swiftly blocked it with a collection of dense Void energy in the shape of a steel shield, and in the same split second she threw it at the Hunter. Maks was gone by the time the second shield was thrown.

“Cheater!” Rosaline shouted, preparing her fists, looking around for any signs of light bending. A sharp pain caused by a knife in the back of her neck made her shout in agony. It served just enough of a distraction for Maks to pick up the Orbs scattered on the ground, and do a killing move with a gun as hot as the sun.

All that remained were ashes and a hovering Ghost, putting their Guardian back together.

“Cute Void shield…” Crow commented. That whole fight lasted three seconds.

“Not as cute as Maks!” Rosaline knew what would truly defeat Maks, and it worked as the Hunter had no rebuttal. She stretched, all put back together now. “Guess I gave you that one with the Orbs. Expected you to start off with a damn Bow. Slippery bastards.”

Maks was holding the Ace in her hands, just moments before it was burning hot. It felt like it wasn’t hers.

Cayde wasn’t the best with using it, complaining about burning his fingers, Shaxx complaining about how high and mighty Gunslingers were. 

The Golden Gun was his. It will forever be his. 

“Let’s get back to work.” Maks’ voice was robbed of all friendliness, and she disappeared into her ship.

* * *

“So…” Glint was clueless where to begin, so he settled for annoying his Lightbearer.

“There is nothing going on.”

“Okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“Just wanted to make sure! I’m glad you made a close friend!”

Crow narrowed his eyes and stared at his little friend in slight confusion before returning to target practice with a sniper rifle made out of scraps. Glint has seen how much he looks up to her, him failing to copy some of her tricks being a great source of joy for the Ghost notwithstanding. He’s been also coming into being his own person, all because she allowed him to.

“It’s definitely easier with her around. She’s a friend, and there are things only Lightbearers know. I want to ask her about those... strange dreams I’ve been having.” Crow reloaded the rifle with a satisfying click. “Although, I’m starting to get ideas of what actually happened to her friend to make her like that. I’m not dumb.”

Alarm bells rang in Glint’s little head.

Everyone has met Cayde, the legendary hero, one ironic way or the other. Glint once, out of pure curiosity, read a report Maks wrote about the incident on the Shore.

It all read as if someone had a gun pointed at her Ghost, forcing her to be nice. The entire report was strained and stiff and strange, words missing as she undoubtedly was told to remove several paragraphs. He had to remember that a lot of the things said in it were words of someone at the peak of vengeance.

One thing was staggeringly clear to him: there wasn’t a single living person who hated Prince Uldren Sov more than she did. When he saw her turn the corner for the first time in Spider’s Lair, he was terrified that she’d treat Crow worse than other Guardians had, that she’ll snap any remnant of Uldren Sov out of existence and be done with it.

Instead, she told Crow that it was a new life. Sacrificing sleep when he needed someone to talk to, or bounce ideas off of. It took its time for the pensive look to let off her face, but the more the friendship bloomed the less the world saw of it.

Maksim has shown a proficiency at playing dumb many times over. She didn’t earn that list of achievements via dumb luck, as she put it.

She was also a terrible liar.

Maybe the little Ghost was too paranoid. Believing that she had some grand scheme was irrational, right?

He just wanted the best for his Guardian, and as far as he could tell, Maks had no ulterior motives but her history was not one to be ignored.

The thought wouldn’t leave him alone. It haunted him, and he couldn’t talk about it with Crow because it would risk revealing everything. Perhaps it was something else.

“She will not replace you or our friendship, Glint.” Crow felt like it needed to be said.

“Oh!” Glint staggered back a little bit. He already knew that. After everything and all the pain they’ve been through, their friendship was unbreakable. “I didn’t doubt that for a second. But just keep in mind that Ghosts—” He stopped himself, Crow understood where it was heading. There was no good way to respond to continue on this conversation. “Never mind.”

Glint had to make a call. He wouldn’t stop thinking about it until he talked to her, and that could be several days based on what she said. Rosaline was of no help, if anything she would confirm his suspicions. For all the teasing of the Titan and how they appeared to be friendly, Rosaline's Ghost had a far different story to tell. The two Guardians haven't had a normal conversation in two years, whatever bond they once had was long dead. It was all just an act. Glint didn't pry much more than that.

He steeled himself.

“Hey, Guardian. Only two of us on this channel, Crow’s out of hearing range. I have a question.”

“ _Shoot_.”

“It’s about Prince Uldren Sov. Not Crow.” Glint couldn’t figure out how to ask the question in a smoother way; “Do you still hate him?”

He only heard her breathe in, and then silence. As if she had disconnected. Sometime later, she spoke again. What kind of question was _that_?

“ _You want me to be candid and nice, or…?_ ”

“Up to you.”

“ _I’ll be nice. Prince Uldren Sov was insufferable. I’d wager that half of the idiots attacking Crow are not trying to ‘avenge’ Cayde_.” The intense heat of anger could be felt through the comms, no matter what words she forced herself to say. “ _The road of stupidity that man walked is unparalleled, and the number of people he annoyed was even larger.”_

“I get your point…” Even though Crow was a new person and his own being, it still hurt a little bit.

“ _Couple days after he died, I encountered Jolyon Till. He recognized me, confided in me, told me about what the Black Garden and a… reverence to his sister did to a good person. I was too angry, didn’t believe him. I made it out of the Garden just fine, right?_ ” Maks told, slowly, making an effort to mask how furious the question had made her. She wasn’t in a place to shout. “ _Then, mid story, Jolyon realized that I was a Guardian with no memories. He realized that the ‘good Corsair’ he knew as ‘Vas was dead. Another person lost_ _, and that the Awoken lived in a nightmare world. So, do I hate him?_ ” Maks thought about it for a moment. “ _Don’t ask me these questions_.”

Glint felt a stab of regret for starting this conversation, but didn’t talk about it.

“If you hurt Crow—”

“ _Wait, wait. What-"_ It made her snap out of her anger. “ _Glint!_ ”

“Yes?”

Sounds of her slapping the forehead of her lycan helmet echoed through the channel.

“ _I’d rather willingly take the position of the next Hunter Vanguard. I think I made that clear_.” The worst curse she could imagine on any person. “ _I know you two been through a lot, and I understand what you’re feeling. Cayde… Cayde was the only Guardian who was nice to me for the longest time_.” It was a relief to be able to speak freely about him, for once. “ _Neither here nor there, I suppose_.”

The comms crackled as she disconnected from the channel, back on her own journey.

* * *

Feathers.

The memory of the dream had long since faded. A hawk made out of pure Light, innocents drowning, strings of black consuming all she knows, the Shard. A voice with a strange echo, but one that spoke with so eloquently the first words it had uttered. It spoke of someone, a man, a mother, but it spoke of nothing but life, and of the death that would come after. Maks heard, in her sleep, the whispers of those who would soon be dead. She heard of those with the power to make them so. She saw them, of what used to be them.

There were things going on in her brain she couldn’t fathom — some of them obvious. She could tell that she had no idea what was going on, and it didn’t make sense. There was this whole thing they were trying to explain with these magic feathers and how they all worked, but there was just nothing. She was like an idiot, but the whole thing was totally … inexplicable, and she couldn’t figure it out. She was confused.

This time around, the message wasn’t for her. The glowing feather melted and rebuilt itself in her gloved hand.

It was for Crow. Voices and memories which she heard as she was hunting for the feathers, it all were his. The Traveler entrusted her with him and his fate.

“If Crow is somehow experiencing memories of his life as Uldren…” Bun shuddered. “I don’t need to tell you how bad that would be. For all of us.”

“From what Rosalie told me, there is a contender on Europa for Uldren’s ego.” Maks’ joke did not make her Ghost happier in any way. She doubled down. “It wouldn’t be _terrible_! They can fight to the death! It'll be entertaining!”

Her Ghost couldn’t look more disappointed than he did. He considered asking a tech in the Tower if they could make him a holographic face, just to Maks could see what he was feeling in earnest.

“You need to stop spending time with Crow if these jokes are going to keep happening.”

“Back to the Shore we go, then.”

The Ghost rolled his little eye, catching up with her.

“Guardian, I’m serious.” Bun watched her calibrate the navigation, seemingly not listening to what he was saying.

What was she _supposed_ to do? 

The freedom of her ship has been something she has taken for granted. Maks closed her eyes, only briefly.

A hand caught her arm, and her mind started to wander. So, she was on the ship, the ship that had been her home for so long… And she had been to the edge of that ship, the edge of, yes, beyond, but still, always that bridge between, where she could fly to the Moon… A surge of horror came over the Guardian, ripping her back to the Hive caves where, to their horror, she learned the true nature of the creatures she’d seen. Some still looked human, other were the Hive, who would serve them one day. This was something the Guardian should never face. They were far from there, the Earth’s moon strewn about with hundreds of Hive ships; and there were even new ones in orbit, waiting to do all they could to destroy her. As they prepared to charge the Hive ships, the Guardian saw the Hive’s forces on the surface of the planet. These were just the beginning of her own nightmares. She wasn’t even sure where it came from. If it was some horrible evil thing that would have happened had she been awake, the pain she’d felt would not have been worth it. It would have been a small price to pay, if it meant a friend’s safety, then so be it. She just wanted to sit back in her bed with her eyes closed. She wanted to listen to some old song and sleep quietly like she always did.

Bun gently woke her up by bumping into her arm, and she realized how long she slept. At least she got some sleep. Maks had no idea why she expected anything to look different when she landed. Maybe there was a _fraction_ less Dark Ether in the air. Perhaps Crow would be wiser. Crow looked distracted when she walked in, but his golden eyes lit up with trust once he saw who it was.

Look of a _friend_.

“Do you have a minute?” Crow said, before she could tell him about the mystical feathers. “Something’s been going on and I’m… Some time ago you asked me about nightmares. I’ve been having these strange dreams lately. Vivid. _Real_.”

“Red petals?” Maks asked carefully, face pale as though dead. If there was one way to find out if Uldren was creeping back into the world of the living...

“No.” Crow furrowed his brows, and tried to remember. “I’m flying. There’s a green forest. Mountains. European Dead Zone, I think. Sometimes the clouds part, and where there should be a bright blue sky, there’s just… darkness.”

“What else?”

“I’m free…” Those two words felt strange to say, despite being a retelling of his dream. “… soaring toward a distant pillar of light. But the dream always ends the same way. That light… flickers like a candle flame and goes out. And then there’s… _nothing_.” Crow shook his head, feeling like he was hit by a train he’s seen in the old prisons. “I can’t shake it. It’s all I think about… Would you come with me? See if anything’s there?” The soft whispery voice held a mixture of pleading and eagerness.

“I have a feeling I know where it is.”

His eyes widened. “You’ve had the same dreams?”

“Not _exactly_ the same…”

The two paused talking until they were past The Spider, who appeared to be in a great mood for once.

Maks continued. “I don’t understand the Traveler, but it uses dreams to… I don’t know. Lead you to a purpose, a place where you need to be for it to make sense. I mean, it would be… it would be hard for the Traveler to give you something since it’s an _orb_ , so maybe it is an important message?”

“I’m the brains around here.” Bun bragged.

“You’re a half of a whole idiot.” She teased.

“Crow, might be the best for you to fly with her. How many ships have you crashed now?” Glint asked. “I don’t think the Spider will requisition you a new one.”

“Only a couple. I see your point.” Crow watched her crystalline ship come in. “Spider might see it as a threat otherwise.”

Maks’ ship had a surprising amount of room, but it wasn’t the cleanest. A bit reminiscent of Crow’s settlement in the EDZ. A chair asides from the Captain's one, then hundreds of little trinkets locked in shelves, and spare armor lying around. None that would fit Crow, besides the helmets. She wasn’t all that confident in putting prized possessions in the City Vault since the destruction. Some beautifully decorated hand cannons rested underneath piles of armor, each with their own little stories.

“Feel free to grab a helmet.” Maks said as she charted the course back to the EDZ. Glint looked over her trinkets, both because he was fascinated and because he needed to see if there was something to hide. There were dangers in keeping mementos of enemies she had killed, as it was customary for enemies of the Light to try and corrupt Guardians. In their stead, there were pictures, drawings, and wood carvings of various memories. A petal, a Vex head, a Hive with a large crown…

“You must have some stories.” Glint said in awe. He knew about her notable achievements, but they never came off as real. Maks never talked about them for reasons she has kept to herself. In the middle of his fascination with her adventures, unexpected turbulence caused the purple Ghost to bump into a small gadget, and an audio log started playing by itself.

_“…I used to ride the Light all around the system, doing my best to stay busy and stay away. Well I can tell you, contrary to popular opinion—and from personal experience—shacking up in the City’s got its perks. And without the others looking out for us, we’d be running around tinkering with pea shooters and trying to fly those clunkers from the Cosmodrome, looking like a bunch a’ dummies._ ” Cayde’s voice stopped for a brief moment. ” _Look— Guardian — the City needs you; **you** need it. I mean, have you seen the goods they’re peddling these days? The ships Holliday’s been putting up in the air? They got your back here. I’m hungry. Let’s get some ramen_.“

“Oh…” Glint whispered, as the Hunter turned around in the pilot’s seat and rested her face in her hands. He flied back a couple of feet to make sure it never happens again. “Sorry…”

“Not your fault.” Her voice was muffled in her palms. Crow silently assumed that the voice was of the friend she lost, he didn’t need to ask stupid questions. She tried to take in the sight, and the coldness, the quiet. The silence, she did not want to hear. The silence that always came, the quiet that only came on bad nights filled with nightmares.

How selfish was she when she told Jolyon about Crow? How would she feel if Cayde would come back, how he were back when Andal was still alive? She knew that it would just hurt beyond measure. All she could do was make the best of the current situation. “Every single time, right before I left for an assignment, he would tell me to take him with me. I think he’d appreciate the joke in the recording I picked.”

“How close were you two?” Glint wondered.

“He was my mentor, first and foremost. If _that’s_ what you’re asking.” She stretched her neck, letting that question soak further in. “Besides, I can’t really conceptualize any sense in… that kind of thing between Guardians.” Maks searched for a change of topic as if it were Savathun’s location. “People are under a lot of stress, Glint.”

Crow recalled his dream, how the Light went out and turned into suffocating darkness. He hadn’t given much thought to the concept of a final death. Didn’t really dawn on him that it could even happen until she told him about her friend. Hearing the voice of the dead made every moment into facing his own mortality.

Did the Traveler show him a vision of his final death?

“ _Guardian!_ ” A friendly voice he hadn’t heard before rang through her ship comms. “ _I see you on approach to the EDZ again. Forgot something?_ ”

“Had to pick up a bird.” She responded to Devrim.

“ _I am guessing it’s not a friend for Louis. Always happy to see new faces around here_.” Devrim said. “ _Either way, glad I caught you. Stop by before you leave again. You won’t believe the treasures still found in the EDZ_.”

“What kind of treasures?”

“ _Wine_.” Devrim said bluntly. “ _Thought you could donate it to someone who hasn’t put their days of debauchery behind them._ ”

“I’ll find them a home.”


	12. Birds. Part I

— _so here I am again, back in the EDZ. I know, I know. I said I would leave the Shard alone, but there is something about it. I am not the type that goes fishing for answers, but it feels like this place holds them. Like the Traveler is trying to tell us something. Ahh, what am I talking about, its probably just all those Arc storms messing with my insides_ —

Crow was no stranger to the EDZ, but seeing something else than the Shore was always exhilarating. He almost forgot that air doesn’t usually have Dark Ether and other atrocities of the Tangled Shore in it. Underneath the pile he found a helmet without strange glowing red eyes that she told he could keep. He wondered if her entire entourage of associates – as she calls them – followed the same theme as her and Rosaline, where their sinister apparel was just a façade.

For all of Maks’ dark armor, it had a subtle touch. Like it had a softness to it, which was quite the change.

The scene looked familiar; it was what he remembered once. At the time, the EDZ had been mostly empty; the fields were thick with the remnants of the city and there was so much debris, it wasn’t really a place people went to any more.

“This is it…” Crow observed the entrance to the cave system, nervous excitement rushing through him. “The geography matches my dream exactly. There was a bird? Or… _I_ was a bird?” Crow was confusing himself, memories overlapping. His head was spinning like a giant pinwheel, and he could feel the chill on his skin. He had no idea why he was called there. “Sometimes it’s hard to remember.” He readied his weapon. “I’ll scout the high route. Can you take the lower path?”

Maks nodded and they split up, and when the Taken came into play, her mind fell into a trance again.

Crow described his dream as someone calling out to him while underwater, or down a long tunnel.

It always ended in darkness, a call that he couldn’t answer.

She wasn’t going to let darkness happen. Not after all the blood and the tears and the horrors both of them were subjected to. It wasn’t going to end with her carrying the body of another dead friend, or him going back to slowly killing himself, to get arrested by Petra again or… worse. It took her a long time to realize how close they had become.

Maks hadn’t yet taken the time to figure out the delineations and the like. Their past lives were in the past, not in their future. A good mind thinks, a bad mind believes, a good mind thinks, a bad mind believes.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t bring back anything from her life as ‘Vas. Same went for the future that she was living. But she knew what those things meant to her. The thing that made her afraid was exactly the moment that she tried to become better.

They were all she’d ever known. Now, as she tried to re-embrace them, she couldn’t bring back any more of her past, not as the one she’d been before.

Because it didn’t matter. They were everything, they were everything to her, nothing but. Nothing more than all that she was.

“ _It was real!_ ” Crow gasped as the golden hawk screeched when she passed by it. “ _The dream, the bird…_ ” He quickly returned to the task at hand. No distractions. “ _I’ve got coverage on you from up here. I’ll watch your back when you go in_.” He paused for a moment, and added: “ _Be careful_.”

“I… will.” She wasn’t used to anyone asides from her Ghost sincerely telling her that, but she was sure that her almost missing a jump had nothing to do with it. “I wonder if the visions are related to both of us being Awoken. If anything, we shouldn’t have those visions.”

“ _How so?_ ” Crow asked.

“On the onset of Dark and Light colliding, a… a-a _choice_ was made which created the Awoken. Whether it was the correct choice, is debatable.” She narrowly avoided a Taken cannon and continued running through the caves. “It can’t be a vision of our past, of what became of Earth, as we were long gone one way or the other. We weren’t there to witness any of it. The hell is the orb doing?”

Glint interjected. “ _The most widely held belief is these dreams came from the dormant Traveler, like the survivors were experiencing its dreams. If it dreams. It’s true that the Awoken have a closer affinity to both Light and Dark than the others_.”

“Yes, I also wish that being Awoken didn’t stray from the ability to scare people in dark rooms.” She bit her tongue. With little effort, she made her way across the gap of rocks. “Never mind. Let’s move on.”

“ _What did you see in your dream, Guardian?_ ” Glint pushed.

The purple Ghost never got the answer, her own Ghost respecting her silence and lack of further participation in the discussion. Maks didn’t even know what it was she felt about the world, she hadn’t really thought about it. She couldn’t help but wage the theory that she would have fought harder to save people if she would have never seen that vision. She saw it as the Traveler cursing her with a self-fulfilling prophecy. 

She met up with Crow, right at the very end. He was struggling not to pace as he waited.

“Whatever was calling to you in your dreams, Crow… it’s in there.” Her Ghost said, used to the Guardian of his being stuck in her own contemplation.

“Ready?” Maks asked Crow, and got a shaky nod in response. His heart began to beat rapidly in a way that made him shudder, but his chest was warm with hope.

They went in side by side to find a forgotten piece of the Traveler which lived in the light. Maks looked up, feeling watched, observed, trying to find some Eyes of Savathun somewhere. The Witch had to know about it, that they were here. After so many hours on the Moon, she has found a clear difference between paranoia and instinct. As if clockwork, Taken spawned all around them. They took one Taken centurion each, trusting eachother. She could see them all through. Like the shadows dancing, twisting and breaking like a curtain. Her mind grew fuzzy.

Once silence fell, the golden hawk was seen watching over a gun frame. Even if The Traveler’s eyes, that she has seen, came from the end of eternity, the end of history, she couldn’t see where its powers came from. In the darkness of the cave, the shard was just sitting there with a cold expression. Maks snapped out of it, and went ahead to examine the weapon.

“Is that my Hawkmoon…?” She scowled as she slowly picked it up. “Looks like only just a frame. I thought I lost this gun. Did some of Ghaul’s Red Legion drag my stuff here after the attack?”

“This has to be a message.” Crow brainstormed to her, as if she knew. “The bird. The voice calling to me as the Darkness closes in…” He scratched the back of his head, furrowing his brow. “Why _me_?”

“I always believed in my purpose as a Ghost.” Glint told him. “We are all part of a broader design. Now that the Traveler is awake and whole again… that plan is set in motion.”

Crow scoffed. “I don’t know if I want to be somebody’s cosmic plaything.”

One day she’ll accidentally make a comment, and one day she’ll regret it. The Awoken didn’t need to be plagued by any more plans. That was enough for her.

“I think I’ve fed the Spider enough art and contraband to let us stay here for a while.” Maks said instead. “Let’s set up camp.”

* * *

Everything happened at once.

Maks spent months, two years, simply not thinking. Not thinking about The Traveler, not thinking about Cayde, not thinking about the strange forces which created her and the rest of the Awoken. Not thinking about the words of Zavala, not thinking about Ikora, not thinking about the way she was made, and not thinking at all about the pain she had caused. Not thinking about how the only thing that will stop a machine that has a lifespan of ten thousand was a power that has no limits and could kill without a word.

The emptiness, the emptiness, is there, but it’s hidden, the darkness is in the silence. Crow picked up on it, how her eyes were moving through the sky like she was waiting for everyone to leave.

But just like it was said in the legend: you can’t lose hope that things won’t catch up.

The Traveler left her, left them both, something. Something to live for…something which will continue to die. Maybe the Traveler isn’t dead. Maybe the Traveler is alive. The Traveler, not her. She knew she wasn’t free, if she even lived. Even if she survived, it would all be for nothing. Her heart felt the same.

So maybe she’s dead.

It’s possible, she doesn’t know it.

Maybe she’s living in dreamland, as the Techeuns kept telling her whenever they got the chance.

Perhaps the Traveler doesn’t care about _her_ , only about her being alive.

Who was living now? Who was not there?

Maks didn’t know why but something began moving inside her, moving in slow motion. She had done this before. She had done this too many times, countless times, over and over again. This was a process, started with the Black Garden.

She could only avoid Europa for so long, avoid unfinished confrontations with friends and enemies alike.

“Feels wrong to see actual night for a change…” Glint looked up at the sky which was filled to the brink with glittering stars. They settled in a secret spot, just past the Salt Mines. Very few Guardians knew how to activate the transmat to it. The giant shard of the Traveler and the river of Light pouring out of it made for a wonderful sight. Crow was closely examining the weapon frame, trying to get the glow of the campfire to catch it where he needed it to.

“Life, death, rebirth…” The words came out far more sombre than he intended. “I think the Traveler is trying to tell us something in metaphor because it – or we – lack the words to have a true conversation.”

Crow pulled back his hood, so he could see better without it getting in the way and annoying him. He looked years younger than how she remembered Uldren even with the grey, and his hair was a little longer, especially on the sides. It puzzled her greatly. Opposed to his previous self, his face was filled with curiosity and hope. “There are some strange crystals in it, part of me is certain that they’re supposed to be glowing.”

With this whole dream pursuit, it really felt like she was being pulled out of her normal reality into a fantasy world, but she was really confused at how it was changing her, trying to get rid of this feeling of her normal reality.

“I’m sorry if I’m not making sense,” Maks started off. “The Traveler is attempting to tell us something in the way of art that has never been done, right? Maybe it’s straight forward? You’re a bird, you’re flying, then you’re dead. Maybe it set you on a path to change the course, that you’ll live. A gun has a part of ensuring your survival. Or maybe the journey…” She realized that she wasn’t making sense.

“Maybe. Perhaps cross referencing your vision could help us figure it out?”

Maks laid down on the ground, eyes on the stars again, helmet as a painful pillow underneath the back of her neck. She didn’t expect the night to end with a game of picking a scar at random and telling a tale about it. She began, reluctantly:

“It’s been years, but I remember it as a dream of the Pyramids arriving. I was powerless under the water, calling out to people, but I couldn’t save them as they drowned while reaching out to me for help. Then, a bird leading me to this Shard.” She couldn’t meet his eyes. “Which is, not too far off from what’s currently happening.” It wasn’t a joke, despite how much she tried to make it into one.

Maks clicked her tongue and continued: “I think the Shard is more like the wind from a sail, or some kind of breeze, where I got in the boat and everyone else got thrown in the water, which is what I’ve experienced, and all this Traveler stuff that is not a part of my world. I prefer to shoot things.”

You could be on your own, walking through the resting place of the Shard, in a haze of fear, staring up at the it while everyone gets confused. Or you could be walking through the Shard with someone else, and the sun is setting on you, and you’re feeling nothing but gratitude.

“We couldn’t have foreseen what the Pyramids would do…” Bun tried to comfort her.

Not that she didn’t appreciate the Ghost, but she clenched her fists to stop herself from standing up and running away from this topic. After a moment, she gave him a small pat on his shell to let him know she wasn’t mad.

“Did you say crystals in the gun?” She sat up enough to rest on her elbows, to see Crow’s face shift from deep regret about the question he asked, to focus on how to revive the gun.

Her Ghost scanned the strange effigy. “Only experience I recall with Light and Crystals is the Hive on Titan.”

“Maybe we could charge the crystals with Light?” Glint suggested. 

Crow hesitated, as an image was starting to become clearer in his head, but then said: “The way you do with a dead Guardian… Revive them, that is. I’m ready to test that theory whenever you are.”

“Well.” She fully sat up, feeling her elbows ache. “I guess you mean not by killing Guardians and storing their Void Light into it? Remaining Cabal gather in Trostland every few minutes. Both of us know how to use the Bow, should be able to fill it with Light easily.” She dusted herself off, her fluffy hair was filled with sand and dirt. She wasn’t sure why it bothered her to that extent.

He still felt an unease about what he asked. He needed her to help him understand, but not at the cost of it going too far.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push about the dream.” Crow apologized, and offered her a hand, not really knowing how else to mend the situation. She gladly took it and he pulled her up with ease. There was a look of appreciation on her face. A small, warm smile tugged at his cheek when he saw it.

“It’s not something that makes for a fun campfire conversation.” She grabbed her helmet, and stared at its angry face. She then softly laughed at the situation because it was kind of stupid. “It’s okay. Do you come out here often, Crow? To the EDZ?”

“Not as much since we met, but I used to when on assignment. Preferred the Dam.” He breathed in the air, and took a second to revel in the calm. “It’s quiet out here. No one to bother me… hmph, or for me to bother.”

“EDZ hasn’t been this quiet in years.” Cabal drills, their expansions, ships whirring through the air. All of it has been replaced by crickets and birds. Maybe something, maybe a tiny thing she did in this place, actually mattered.

“You make it sound like you miss the noise.”

Now that they’ve both had a taste for the chaos of the Shore, the silence of the night felt just a little more intense.

“No. I’m not the one to be disappointed when my ears stop bleeding from explosions.” Maks shivered as she walked, attuning to Solar energy. The first of snow will fall soon.

She wondered when she should bring up the ‘secret’ betting pool the two Ghosts have between them, too. She hadn’t yet figured out whether she was more concerned with the implication, or that the gambling aspect of it was something her Ghost inherited from being friends with Sundance. Either way, they were just having fun. Would be rude.

“How did you get your name, Maks?” Glint made conversation. It wasn’t the longest of walks back to Trostland.

She’s going to have a stern talk with both of them.

“Um…” She scratched the back of her head. “I was resurrected in the Cosmodrome. And… I was filled with this overwhelming urge to cause problems for people.”

“She’s refined that talent since then.” Bun commented. “Directed it towards the Hive. And the Vex. And well, literally anything that shoots at her.”

“I met this family, of non-Guardians. Humans. When the woman saw me, she started weeping.” She told, fully catching Crow’s attention now as he did a double take. “She called me Maksim, covering the eyes of her youngest kids with her hands as I approached.”

“Were the Awoken that hated?”

“Well…” Her voice went higher in pitch. Crow would have to get a _lot_ more specific to get a truthful answer for that question. “She told her kids to run as far and as fast as they could, she pulled out a shotgun, shot me in the face, and fled. After some post-carnage translating, it turned out that she thought that her spouse hath returned as an undead wraith. Fun memory. Name stuck.”

“You can’t be serious.” Combined with what a terrible liar she was, it was bizarre enough to be believable.

“Unfortunately, I am.” She said. “Don’t get me started on the cascade of confusion about what an undead actually was.”

* * *

“The Cabal aren’t here yet.” Maks, to her delight, noticed a sniper rifle in one of the church windows. “I’m going to grab the wine from Devrim. He’s a friend, but it’s your choice.” She smiled at Crow before running up the scaffolding of the church.

Devrim’s little settlement was always the warmest place she could think of. She could spend ages in there, chatting with him. It felt like the fireplace on the onset of winter, felt like cinnamon tasted.

Maybe she was just looking forward to the Dawning. But, it always felt like a small corner of a nice home. Made her forget about things.

“Always nice to see a familiar face!” Devrim greeted her, and then saw a sheepish hooded figure behind her with similar glowing eyes to hers. “Ah yes. You have a new friend, don’t you? Don’t be shy, I don’t bite.”

“Go on!” Glint spun around his charge.

“I’m… Crow.” He had gotten used to getting rid of the article in front of his name.

“Good to finally meet you. I’m Devrim Kay, the Eight, as she might have told you.” Devrim had a welcoming smile underneath the grey beard, putting Crow surprisingly at ease. “I think I’ve seen you running around before, Guardians like to dress a certain way." He eyed Crow's mismatched outfit. "No offense. Anyway, there is always a kettle on for friends of _The Guardian_. Come by any time you like.”

“Oh, I—” The way Crow got stunned by Devrim’s invitation made Maks laugh quietly. “Thank you.” He said softly.

Devrim tilted his head and furrowed his brow. A sense of amiss stalked the famous Guardian, and this was no different. She picked her friends well, Cayde trusted her. All of her friends had a preference for plans that involved explosives. This time however, the old man found himself confused.

“A _polite_ Guardian who is part of Maksim’s lovely little… ‘ _entourage’_ , for once? The world is indeed coming to an end, my friend. Don’t let her be a bad influence on you.” Devrim gave another nod to the young Guardian, before turning to Maks. “I’ve heard about you fighting some new Taken around here, a new player involved.”

She shrugged. “Forces with a grudge against me, as usual.”

“After what happened on the Reef, I’d hope a smart person would think twice before crossing you.”

_Ah._

“Well, right now only thing that I want to cross me is some wine.” She knelt down and inspected the boxes. She picked one bottle up for inspection. The labels and years from the bottles had long since faded away. She trusted him regarding what was in the bottle. “You’re not unloading these on me just because they are not safe for non-Guardians?”

“Refer to what I said about crossing you. I’ll stick to my troubles down here, thank you.” He threw a glance at the hooded Guardian behind her while her Ghost transmatted the bottles to the ship. Maybe this new Light will be a good influence on her. Devrim had doubts about that.

“Thanks, Devrim.” An earth-shaking sound of a Cabal drop pod reminded them of reality. “Work calls.”


	13. Birds. Part II

“Did you struggle with your Guardian?”

“To say the… least. My Guardian wasn’t the fabled hero of now when I found her.” Bun told Glint, with complete honesty. Their two Guardians were decimating the Cabal, and teaching each other various tricks when they were given a breather. “I woke her up next to these old ships, filled with corpses of people who couldn’t escape the Collapse. We spent a couple of days there, with me trying to get her to the City. She lost faith in the world before hers began.”

“That’s… morbid.” Glint didn’t really know what else to say. He found his Guardian in a place engineered to be beautiful.

“There was something about Cayde that didn’t make the world feel hopeless to her, made her believe that it was something to be saved.” Bun sighed. “Took a moment of convincing, and she was mad at everyone for a while, especially Zavala endlessly talking about the Light, but Cayde never gave up on her.”

Crow was struggling with a knife throw. By this point he could throw one knife pretty well, but not three. Upon noticing this, she took the time to adjust his wrist. Glint was ready to celebrate and demand Glimmer from the other Ghost, but the two Guardians separated and Crow threw the three knives almost flawlessly.

Disappointment all around.

“If there is one thing I know about my Guardian, is that if she ever meets one of the people who’ve hurt Crow, she… well, she wouldn’t make Cayde proud, but she’d put them in their place.” Bun said. “She’d make him laugh, though. He’d be happy about not having to do paperwork.”

Crow asked her about the image of the sun of Osiris on her pauldron, and soon enough both were laughing about a story where a tether of hers and a shoulder charge of Rosaline brought them victory and an entry to the fabled Lighthouse.

But this time around, it weren’t Cabal drop pods which put an end to their laughing.

Other Guardians, about ten of them, mostly Hunters.

This was bad.

They were armed and ready.

There was little time to react. Maks threw a Voidwall grenade between them and Crow, five of them died within seconds. The rest were entangled in a Void trap she had shot down earlier.

“Why are you protecting him?” A tall Hunter, a boss looking type, demanded to know as he broke out of the tether with an animalistic groan. Some stragglers still tried to run for Crow, but died again as they conveniently forgot about the still burning Voidwall grenade.

_Amateurs._

Maks raised her hand at Crow a little bit, telling him to stay put. Solar energy was radiating around his hand, a Golden Gun ready to be summoned. Glint hid safely in Crow’s hood, a reflex he developed.

That grenade of hers was going to burn as long as it needed to. She had them trapped.

“Leave. This New Light had nothing to do with it.” Maks explained calmly.

“Like hell, he didn’t!”

The Boss Hunter didn’t even make it to the grenade, as he stumbled over Maks’ foot. He regained his composure when he stood up, he'd rather face a final death than have her embarrass him.

“By wasting your time here and not in the Crucible to get your twisted release, you are proving that you didn’t know what Cayde stood for.” She took a couple steps closer to him, one hand on the Ace on her hip. They made the wrong choice. “Don’t make your next choices accordingly to a future where I’m not in it.”

“There is no law against vengeance.” He took the story of her own voyage of revenge and twisted it against her, hoping to make her crack. “You should know, _you_ were the one who set the precedent for all of us. You’re going to get your ass kicked one day, _Hero of The City_. One day they’re going to beat you, and the next day, they’re going to beat you even harder.”

Another few steps towards him on her part. She wasn’t wearing her helmet, but she didn’t need to. One of the Guardians fired a shot at the ground, as a warning.

He ranted on: “The City only wants you to be so fucking tough and strong.” He glanced at Crow behind her. “It’s not about what I’m telling you, it’s about what I see as coming up next. You might not want to go in for that. You might not want to be this weak and meek and so weak that someone can’t hold you down and just break you both. Get rid of that grenade.”

There was arc energy between them, almost strong enough to cause a raging storm. They waited for her to attack, to make the first move. She didn’t know their names, but she knew that they had experience no matter how basic it was.

Maks wasn’t going to give them what they wanted. It was not worth it by any means to waste her Light.

She was too angry and too annoyed for rational decisions; she only knew how to make them feel fear. She clasped her hands together.

“You see, it’s all a _lie_ , and people don’t want to see it.” Maks was right in the face of the armoured Hunter. “You don’t want to see me in my anger and fury, I’ve never been an innocent at all. In five minutes, I could be in a position where I hold the power to make you cook Scorn desserts for Drifter for the rest of your life.”

“You wouldn’t dare. That seat is death.”

“I could make the call right now. We can have it settled. I’ve seen you in Gambit, you know how ‘Ol Drifter is. Wouldn’t like him hungry.” She found strange pleasure in him wobbling back at her words. “Ghosts do not work well with a glass shard in them.”

Crow quickly realized that the helmet she wears doesn’t come close to how terrifying she can be. He’s been given a brief about the Vanguard, about the cursed position. No names, but he didn’t need them. No one in the seat has managed to ever stay alive. The other two members have watched many friends be consumed by the responsibility.

She could feel the foul breath of the intrusive Hunter on her face, which just motivated her further. This had to end.

“Hey, boss…” A Guardian behind him raised a hand, few of the others were already gone. “Maybe you shouldn’t agitate someone who killed Oryx—”

Maybe they should.

Oh, they _definitely_ should.

She smirked.

“ _Ghost_ , call Zavala.”

Zero hesitation. Her Ghost trusted her enough, that she actually won’t go through with it. There was no change to the frozen stalemate, not even when the voice spoke through the comms.

The other Guardians were waiting on her bluff to disappear.

Any moment now.

She had a reputation: one of a great hero of their time _or_ one of a power-hungry force depending on who you asked, but she wasn’t outright _crazy._

“ _This is unexpected, Guardian. What do you need_?”

“Sorry if this is sudden, Commander. After some thinking, I made a choice…” She saw the Boss Hunter in front of her slowly lose his resolve with every word she said. She was being serious. She was really going to take the cursed position just to prove a point. “The Vanguard need to be united again, and I—”

“Fine!” The other Hunter roared, crushing the Dead Orbit rifle in his hands. Maks’ Ghost instantly took them all out of the channel. “I’d rather let him live than have someone who wants to break all of my ribs and shit out my spine in the position, even if it kills you in a week. It’s not worth it when they’re going to turn your spine upside down.”

“Tell the others!” Maks sang to him, in her sweetest voice, as the entire group of Guardians disappeared back into their ships. “ _Bonne chance!_ ” The Void flames calmed down around her, and the noise was replaced by birds.

She always had to think about the implications of her actions. The worst moment came when she gave away information in this manner.

“Oh…” Glint slowly wiggled out of Crow’s hood. “Oh. Okay.”

Her voice sounded even angrier as she stepped back: “Violence can be very impractical.” She struggled for an explanation. There was no more reason to fight, nor to be weak. “At least the Hunters will leave you alone.”

At times, there was no difference between charming and terrifying with her.

The fearlessness and confidence in which she spoke, the strength that was always there when she was at her best, the deep understanding that all in the world would be alright was only real to her in those rare moments - those things were her.

That was what she was, what she knew.

She gathered the remaining orbs, feeling the Light surge in her veins. As if it were The Traveler itself trying to get them out of the situation, the effigy of Hawkmoon lit up. It morphed and changed right in front of their eyes, but it demanded more.

She just couldn’t understand.

“Crow…?” Glint bumped into his Guardian’s arm when he didn’t respond. He was looking at her, grateful, but terrified but smiling a sly smile. He’s seen her with her armor covered in Hive blood, but it didn’t even compare. “Crow!”

Crow blinked his wide eyes away. “Oh, right.”

Maks threw the hand cannon frame at him and he caught it, as she could not see further than the horizon with this ordeal. What stood before her had to be the sky above. If it was just trees being chopped down to bits then it was not far.

But beyond that…well - it was just trees.

“I remembered something else just now. A dream of a dream.” He sat down on the nearby stairs. The hopefulness returned to his voice. “You were carrying the effigy. It was simply radiant, charged with a power I’ve never seen before…”

“What then?”

“We were taking it to the Shard of the Traveler, together, and then…” He couldn’t grab the rest in his head. Truthfully, he was still processing what just happened. “I don’t know what happens next. But we’re going to find out!”

“Find out, how?” Maks put her hands on her hips, and searched for a bird.

And as luck would have it, it was screeching just above.

* * *

Crow went ahead to clear out the path for her as best he could. He still wanted to help.

Another feather waited for her, and she grabbed it off the ground.

“This feather both exists and doesn’t exist.” Bun said. “It’s a manifestation of potential energy. The choice between action and inaction.”

“It’s…” She pocketed it. “It’s a feather…” Maks whispered to herself in defeat. “It’s a _feather_.”

“ _Keep an eye out for Taken. That’s exactly the sort of thing Savathun would love to get her spindly little hands on_.”

Maks had a hard time believing in magic. A gun was just a gun, a feather was just a feather. She considered these thoughts and concepts as something that should never have been given to her. A lot of people in the City would be frustrated about her saying it out loud. For as she knew, the purpose of the Traveler was not to save one another, but to destroy others by means of the Light. Because the Light was a means to that end.

The feathers led her to a secluded room, which at first looked like a storage space. Someone lived in there until recently in this makeshift home. She stepped over the rubble carefully, trying not to disturb the little moment in time.

“ _Don’t mind the mess. Glint’s a terrible maid_.” Crow said once he noticed where she was on the feed. “ _This is just where I come to… get some distance when I need it. Someplace to call my own_.”

“ _It’s his Crow’s Nest!_ ” Glint’s voice was joyful and filled with pride over that pun.

“ _It absolutely is not_.”

It was no City, but charming in a way. With terrible weight in the air. Maks leaned against the hard bed, and picked up one of the empty bottles of alcohol. She gently shook it to find it dry and empty.

“ _I didn’t drink that by myself, in case you were curious_.” He found a perch to rest himself somewhere, she didn’t hear any guns, or Taken in the background. “ _As you know by now, after Glint brought me to life, I quickly came to realize that Guardians recognized me as whoever I was before_.”

She waited for him to continue, putting the bottle down next to the white Awoken burial shroud. On top of it was a bowl decorated with Dawning imagery.

Difficult to not be extremely bitter that Uldren got a funeral. Being selfish about this hurt more than thinking about what led to her dying all alone.

“ _Even then, I rescued an Awoken Warlock and her Ghost once. She offered me a drink afterward, but I left before she came back with it_.” There was a long pause, void of anything. “ _I don’t know why, but I returned for the empty bottle later. I’ve always wondered how she would have treated me if I’d stayed. If she saw my face._ ”

Electricity crackled in a broken fuse box. He told her of how saving Osiris, another outcast, made him feel like he finally found his purpose. That he was brought back for a reason. She looked at the burial shroud again. It was soft to the touch, crafted using only the finest tools. The Awoken always had a liking for aesthetics to hide the darkness, even her.

“ _My first memories are waking up under this shroud. The first thing that was mine. It was comforting, somehow. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. Someone cared enough to lay me to rest. I meant something to them, whoever they are, and that… means something to me_.”

Maks didn’t know who laid him to rest. She doubted that Jolyon attended the ceremony. The Uldren he knew died years before the Prince did.

Her biases told her that it were just a ceremony, and stopped at that. Cayde wouldn’t be dead if the burial actually came out of love.

Not to say all Awoken Guardians died alone far away from home, of course.

Yet she didn’t want to break his heart with her own biases and antagonism towards her kin, or project her own heartbreak to anyone.

The man he was before deserved better somewhere down the line. A cascade of failures killed him.

Maybe the Traveler brought them together so that a friend would get him to walk down a different road, one without corruption.

Or maybe it was the same being from a more distant planet that did this to him in the first place. She would not know for sure. She only knew it led to a terrible mistake two years ago, and she was swimming in a sea of scars and doubts about if she was the right person for this situation. There were a lot of things that could have happened. Her Ghost’s eyes were drawn into an expression of concern in her usual sharp, but sometimes sad, gaze. Something was wrong, he thought.

“ _During my first Dawning, Glint gave me that bowl as a gift. You know that I’m not stupid. I know… the person I used to be, he did something terrible. I can feel it when people look into my eyes and see him._ _The way you struggled to look at me when we met. I don’t ever want to know him_.”

It felt like her emotions had gotten a little higher, and her stomach twisted. The only sound, as far as it could have gone, was the electricity and the dull clicking of gears. The Hunter didn’t want to believe that there even could be anything left of _him_ somewhere. But, that anyone could be truly dead, at this rate, was a hard thing to believe.

The air had moved to a colder tone. But it was all too quiet, too quiet.

A certain degree of relief laid in him abandoning the man he was before.

“It’s… nice that you kept all of this.” Maks’ voice was full of a strange, deep timbre that only she could understand. “That you had something of your own.”

“ _Spider wanted all of this thrown out, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Even broken, it might still have a purpose to someone. I’ve heard that before the Collapse, there used to be an art. It took broken things and put them back together with precious metals. It made something new and beautiful out of something that would have just been thrown away_.”

But maybe it could be mended, maybe it would. He had wanted something, the way he wanted the first thing of life, something that made him go faster than the Light could push him, something that gave him joy and speed that hadn’t been felt in a long time, but had suddenly found its way into him.

The last thing she could ever have imagined was both of them being still alive.

Some time ago, she wouldn’t have thought it mattered. Pieces were empty and broken, that they were not even worth holding onto anymore, or even thinking about. That just because someone could make something beautiful out of something old, that it meant there wasn’t anything worth holding onto.

It was different now.

* * *

The gun still wasn’t satisfied after killing another big Taken, but the two were getting somewhere and even Maks started to believe that there was something more to it. He set up camp in the same place as before, waiting for her. She had not said a word since telling him that she thought him keeping his old things was _nice_.

The Hunter materialized not too far away, gave him a friendly wave, and took off her helmet revealing a fluffy red mess of helmet hair.

She then put the helmet on the ground, and kicked it until the both of them were at the campfire, like a petulant child would after being scolded by their parent.

It was endearing, in a way. She opened and closed her mouth to speak, looking everywhere at once, before sitting down right next to Crow by the fire. He had questions, but he wasn’t going to say anything if she didn’t want to talk.

“Was I a brat?” She asked him, sincerely and seriously, brows furrowed, and he didn’t know how to answer the question. “I don’t remember having a family, but I felt like I was calling my dad, or threatening to call my dad. I’ve seen snotty kids in the City do similar things, and I feel like a brat. Don’t know why.”

Crow blinked in deep confusion a couple of times, then he realized she was talking about the incident before, with the hostile Guardians. All he could do was laugh softly.

“Thank you, for that.” Crow said. He never had anyone do that for him. He knew as well as she did that next time it happens, she will let him fight with his newly learned Light skills. He wasn’t a kid. This was a decent way to take out a block of them, though.

“Isn’t about you!” She joked, with a big smile, playfully and softly touching his shoulder for a second. “They were the assholes. But, still.”

“Would you have gone through with it?” Glint asked. “Taken the Hunter Vanguard position, if it went long enough?”

“I’m not sure…? I think I would, but then I’d apologize to Zavala later and then never visit the Tower again.” Maks shrugged, unloading her weapons. “I prefer adventures for now, the fights, not cursed paperwork. The… the sentiment was there.”

He hoped that she knew how much it meant.

“On our way back here…” Crow began. “I… felt something. It’s a yearning. For change, for adventure.” He smiled awkwardly at her, and then looked at the weapon frame in his hands. “It feels childish, but it’s like the gun — or maybe the Traveler – wants us to experience triumph.”

Her Ghost shook his shell. “I think she prefers brooding over triumph.”

“What’s next?” She asked, ignoring her Ghost bullying her. She turned her eyes to Crow instead.

“Glint thinks this may have to do with elevated states of emotion. Like we need to attune our minds to a specific wavelength.” Crow didn’t seem to be completely convinced, and her own head was still processing it as to what it implied. There was a part of him that believed it to be true. “I think we should try.” Crow asserted, looking straight into her eyes, absentmindedly putting his hand on hers. “ _Together_.”

Her breath trembled slightly, as if she was being struck by an Arc shock. They were inches away from each other, she could feel his slowly quickening breathing, saw the sharp glowing ripples on his skin next to his slightly parted lips. She wasn’t sure what he was thinking in that moment, but she realized that she cared about him despite of everything that was happening, and to think that she could become the person he was looking for would not go out of her head.

… but, what? What did he — what did Glint mean by — While she never said no to a bit of fun, if this was what Glint meant with ‘ _elevated_ _state of emotion_ ’—

“Not like, uh… Oh, Traveler!” Glint tried to clarify his theory, not being sure where he should go. Should he fly in-between them? The other Ghost found great amusement and entertainment in it. Oh no. This… wasn’t meant… He didn’t mean it that way! He wasn’t going to mak— “I meant more in victory in battles… Unless you want to—”

“Glint!” Crow said sternly, instantly turning his gaze away from her yellow eyes. “I think she knows that.”

If there was something blooming between the two Guardians, Glint had a feeling that now it was beyond repair.


	14. Birds. Part III

Savathun was testing them.

And everything went terribly wrong.

Crow didn’t know where he was, he just knew that something hurt, a lot. Faint sound of something dripping echoed in the cave, raindrops on his face.

Rain shouldn’t taste like iron, he thought. Just like his spine shouldn’t be shattered in a hundred pieces. He took his hand to his face, and he felt a warm, soft numbness on it. He didn’t know what was coming. He looked to his right, and saw a long and dark-coloured path. He felt cold and wet and damp. And there was no path. There was nothing. A voice started to come from the trees, a harsh voice telling him he’s lost his strength.

He tried to recall it. Memory didn’t feel reliable with the back of his head bleeding. A sudden wave of light washed over Crow.

They found the shard again, but it was covered by a blight.

The gun started to resonate with the shard once they banished the Blight.

Simple enough.

They got the gun? He didn’t remember. He remembered her being amazed and confused at something, so something good must have happened. Maybe the universe was a big mess and she was the only good thing left in the galaxy.

The feeling of joy disappeared, like a spring in his chest.

And then everything started going wrong.

She warned him to not use a sword against the beast, and the next thing he knew was that the new Taken abomination had sent him flying out of the arena. He felt himself fall. He couldn’t see her face. His eyes were closed, his body went numb. And it felt real. After a few moments, he let himself fall back, head resting against the rock.

The silence stretched on in that moment. Maybe for an eternity he saw nothing. Maybe he just saw…

“Crow!” If Glint had real eyes, he would cry. He finally found him again. “Let me help. Please!” This time his voice shook, his eye was wide, and he sounded more scared than ever.

“I’m alive…” Crow assured his little companion, arms too weak to hold him. The cave was silent, he could hear birds singing across the rocks in the cave, he didn’t remember the birds. But he knew it had to be the creatures, it had to be them, he knew he was here. “Glad you’re unscathed…”

Something else was blaringly loud in his ear.

Sounds of fights and explosions rang. A sound that could’ve been that of an army attacking the cave? No, that wasn’t it.

A wail of pain, the sound of a wind of darkness, and then horrible silence.

Just like in his dream.

It couldn’t end like this. This had to be some horrible dream. He’ll wake up next to the campfire, and one of them will say something stupid, and they’ll laugh.

“Maks…?” Crow called out shakily, nothing. “Maks, are you there?” He repeated, his entire body feeling like he was shocked with an Arc current. No response from her or her Ghost.

As these children are being brought together, they discover that the other side doesn’t care and is going to have them both killed down the line.

Glint worked as fast as his flaps let him. Crow sustained a lot of damage during the fall.

“Her Ghost isn’t dead.” Glint said in-between healing him. “I can still sense him. There is a… void that happens when a fellow Ghost dies. I’ll never forget the feeling.”

The moment he could stand up, regardless of the pain, Crow started climbing. Completely against the wishes of his Ghost, who was still healing him. All he hoped for was that he’d find a trail of blood where he hit his head, then he would know from which direction he came from.

Their arrogance, their insistence and hope that it will all end with triumph. Savathun outsmarted them. She wanted to destroy all hope they had. Wanted despair. She knew them both, knew how they liked to fight.

No. Savathun _needed_ despair.

Neither of them are going to give her that. She was alive. He had to cling onto hope.

Hope swelled in his heart when he reached the top again.

He reached Maks to find Savathun’s Taken exploding. She was on her knees, propping herself up on her rifle. After running to her with the remaining stamina he had, he borrowed one of her other guns to snipe the remaining smaller Taken so that her Ghost could come out and heal her. Not taking out her Ghost until she was completely sure they fight was done was a rule she strictly followed.

This was a battle for the soul. This was a struggle to break out of its comfort. And, even then, she felt her own power draining away. She had no idea how long. And no idea how desperate she felt. She allowed herself to become sloppy, carrying the weight of the world inside herself. One too many distractions. She was better than this.

He knelt down and put a hand on her upper back, other hand holding a gun; keeping an eye out for more Taken who might be hiding, or that Savathun would send to them as a surprise.

“Well…” Maks coughed out the word, as her Ghost started working on mending her crushed throat. She had a feeling he tried leaving it for last, so she would have time to calm down and not vocalize colourful opinions about Savathun. “That was not at all fun or enjoyable.”

He was glad that she had the mood for jokes. Her jokes would be funny if this wasn’t partly his fault. The Hawkmoon was on her hip on one side, the Ace on the other side.

They won.

They triumphed; they reforged the gun.

“The sword…” Her voice still raspy. “Should have told you sooner.”

Crow found himself going dizzy, and only then discovered that he was holding his breath, and exhaled the shakiest sigh of relief. She turned to look at him. She had just gotten to realize just how much he cared about her.

He took a deep breath and tightened the grip on her shoulder, then said softly: “I’m glad you’re alive…” His heart was thumping against his ribs. Too overwhelmed for any coherent words to come out of his mouth. But even if he knew exactly what he felt, how could he say it clearly? But his mind was spinning, he couldn’t think any more. It was too overwhelming.

Maks had tried to save him once before, but never quite put a place in his heart that he could ever remember.

“Come close to dying again and I’ll kill you. Don’t die again.” She whispered with a sense of tenderness, not taking her eyes off his. “And I don’t ever want to ask again.” And he knew she meant it. Her words had brought him a little closer to her. The smile was soft and familiar, it made him feel warm inside. His lips twitched a bit as she reached out, letting her wipe some of the blood off his cheek with her fingertips.

“Energy readings have normalized.” Her Ghost interrupted. “The hawk… it’s gone.”

So was their moment.

“I’m not picking up anything either.” Glint added, not sure if he was disappointed or relieved. The Traveler wasn’t going to give them more answers.

“Come on.” Crow pulled her up. Her injuries were healed, but she was still a bit shaken up. When she stabilized a little, she unholstered the newly crafted shiny gun. It looked like she remembered it, but it had a weight of newly forged journey. Crow realized he still had a hand on her shoulder, but he didn’t care. “Hawkmoon is whole again. Reborn. Savathun can’t take that from us.” His voice a determined whisper.

Her face turned into a pensive one. She slightly leaned into him for comfort and holstered the gun.

She was so tired, but for the right reasons. Sense of triumph for once can be draining.

“I don’t feel like flying the ship.” She sighed. “You can fly us back to the Shore. Just… park it somewhere reasonable. I don’t really care.”

“You trust Crow _that_ much?” Glint’s voice was a mix of apprehension and shock. The ship she owns adorned with crystals didn’t look like anything she wanted to see destroyed. “Well, he’s seen you fight. He knows what can happen.”

“Okay…” Maks leaned away from Crow, and his hand fell from her shoulder. “What is it with you and ships?” Out of all things that transferred over from his past life, she wasn’t exactly complaining that it was this one.

Crow simply shrugged.

“Well, while Crow might be an excellent pilot…” Glint minced the words. “He uh… he isn’t exactly gentle with his ships.”

“Crow…” Maks clasped her hands together, in prayer, took a step even closer to Crow, and looked straight into his golden eyes:

“ _Try_.” She ordered.

The absurdity of the gesture and the rush of emotions after what just happened got a laugh out of him. He vowed to try his best.

By the time all of them were ready to go in the ship, Maks had already fallen asleep in the corner. She had become accustomed to being able to fall asleep on anything as long as her brain wanted to sleep. Her Ghost transmatted one of her many cloaks on her to be a blanket.

There was static in the air. A sound of a needle scratching some plastic. After a brief moment, it was playing music.

It was just a dream, her own, a strange, bizarre, dream to live and enjoy, one that wasn’t worth saving and one that shouldn’t be lived. She would fight them all, she was too strong.

“Hey, buddy!” The voice welcomed her. “Have a seat!”

The face was just a blue blur, but she complied. The tears in her eyes threatened to roll down. The sound of the bright green drink splashing around, the smell of a smoking gun. She tried to keep her face still. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but she could do it.

“Listen, kid.” He began. “I told you, it wasn’t on you. None of it was. But you want me to tell you something I never gave you an explanation for?“

"You mean, like your death was actually meant to be a joke?” Her hand phased through the glass filled with liqueur infront of her. The drinks were meant for the dead, not the barely living.

“No, as much as I’d love to annoy Shaxx one last time.” Cayde shook his head, swirling the drink. “I once met this Guardian. Minutes after waking up Old Russia, first thing she did was kill a Guardian-Eating Fallen Captain. Think her name was Fax? Mix? Something like that. Maybe you’ve met her. Made me laugh from the get go, but in _a me_ _needing to do a lot of paperwork if I laughed_ , kinda way.”

“How did you handle her?” She knew the answer, but she just wanted to hear his voice even if it were just her brain emulating it.

“Well. She wasn’t like any other Hunter that came through the Hall of Guardians. I found her hiding from everyone in a storage room, refusing to do the ol’ Guardian obligations. The angry glowing eyes giving me the heebie-jeebies. So, I let her just talk about loss for about an hour, what she saw in those abandoned ships. Everyone who didn’t make it out.” He said, coming into focus in the corner of her eye. Maks couldn’t look at him. “Then we shared stories. Lost things… all my friends, Andal. All the people I saved, all the different ways I’d lost them, all the things I’d lost in the past. I’d written my own stories. But I had to talk about them in real terms. About what’s hurt me, and what’s gone, and what might go next.”

“I remember that…” Her smile was a mere pursed lip. “And now I’m back to running in fear of losing something. Everything is temporary.”

But you will have to fight your way out of the Light. You must overcome your own past. And you must face your own sins and find your own true love and bring it to the Light. Because you are your own greatest weapon, not your Light.

“Look, as far as I know, the life of The Queen’s mopey little brother? That’s _gone_. It’s wiped clean, and that is behind everyone, asides for some Guardians who need to be ordered to be in a room where Shaxx yells at them. This new kid? He needs _you_ , more than you needed me. Remember what I told you?” Those words made her finally look at him. She had the urge to laugh uncontrollably, but in the end the attempt at laughter turned into a cry as the weight of her heart, her chest, and all of her consciousness felt drained. “Find the path to your best self and walk it. Because the alternative is a lonely road. Don’t you ever forget it.”

He patted her on the shoulder, and stood up from the bar stool, leaving her there as the dream slowly faded. “Otherwise, I may just have to come back. And kick your ass. See ya later, pal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stomp mechanics, am I right?


	15. A Conversation About Wine.

**_…only just a big, rambunctious, rambling conversation about wine and nothing else…_ **

In the end, it was just her. Just her, an absurd amount of wine bottles, and a radio attuned to a signal playing crackly pre-Collapse music originating from a radio tower no one has bothered to turn off. She set up a bonfire and all. She rested the hand with the bottle on her knee, and hurt her eyes staring at the fire. Maks changed her clothes, going from hard armor to a leather jacket, hoping that it would make the experience feel more normal, in a way.

For a minute or two, her chest heaved with the weight of her thoughts. She kept thinking that she could always make it up to everyone in the City by letting them see how well she’d been at being a Guardian, that she had become so good at being the perfect Guardian. Her words were always laced with fear, a part of her never quite able to let go of fear, but she always knew that it was her fault that she was constantly scared, not theirs.

It was the type of thing that was made for old horror films; terrifying because the monster might be scary, but equally scary because a human eye would see it and might react to it differently than an insect might. The worst part of being a hero was that the people you protect—the people whose lives were at risk—would always be your enemies. She wasn’t too far from that.

Wasn’t it too much for her? That was why she was always doing everything she could to stay away from things that she considered dangerous or evil and wanted to avoid.

We can only learn from past experiences, but we can also learn from our own reactions. And it’s not just about being angry at yourself; it’s about realizing that you don’t do what you say you will do.

Maks contemplated for a while, mouth opening and closing, constantly trying to make sens of the whirlwinds in her head.

“Can we talk about Cayde for a moment?” She asked her Ghost, and swallowed the lump in her throat. She still hadn’t tried the wine.

“If you’re ready.” Her little friend said.

“Traveler fucking bless Cayde-6.” Maks toasted the sky, with the still full wine bottle. “I don’t think that we’ll ever reach good enough of an explanation for what really led to that horrible day, and I really don’t care about finding out any more.”

She paused for a long moment. The shadows are drawn and the birds sing at night and the stars fall and there is the crackle of wind and a soft rustling on the walls of the destroyed Fallen buildings. “I haven’t been back in the nightmare of seeing Uldren’s shadow with the Ace for a long time now. I thought I would be there forever and would never leave. They’re both dead. But, I am gonna hang onto a piece of Cayde’s Light forever.”

Maks saw how a small gesture of kindness could change her life and make her the person she was now. She saw how everything changed when she was there for someone, and when someone was there for her.

She saw how the love she got from others was not always the love that she expected. She did not need to spend most of her time in some temple built by an Ahamkara thinking about how to save the lives of others, to tell them what to do, or to tell them how to make the world better. In fact, sometimes she didn’t need to be there at all.

Maks was a part of the world, they were part of hers. She knew what she needed to be doing, even though she knew she did not have to.

She didn’t want to be deliberately alone for a little while.

“Crow?”

Should focus on the good. However long that may last.

They found a meaningful way to help each other, Traveler pushing them to it or not. They got there in the end.

“ _Hey_.”

There was still an unspoken thing that had hit her harder than a Cabal drop pod.

“I have this wine, as you might now.” She said, fascinated by her visible breath in the cold. “I… I-I have no plans. Especially, no plans to make tomorrow fun at all. So… alternative is brooding alone. You know how I do.”

“ _I’m sure it will be only just a big, rambunctious, rambling conversation about wine and nothing else_.” Glint teased.

“ _I think we deserve that. Let me finish up something, and I’ll be right there_.” Crow said.

And it seemed like there was a very large difference between how she now understood someone and how she used to.

“It’s not a… _date_.” She told her Ghost, who was undoubtedly trying to call Glint to gossip about it. “Stop it.”

“ _Suuuuuuuuure_.”

“ _Ghost_.”

Uh-oh.

She used his title. He completely froze in the air under the sharp voice and glare. She _never_ does that.

“I’m serious.”

The little Ghost slowly unfroze.

“Guardian. Do you have… feelings for him?”

Maks didn’t expect such a straightforward question. There was no point in wasting time either.

She and Crow found each other at their most vulnerable, at their highest need to have someone close to them.

At her own guilt of surviving reaching the peak and desperately needing any kind of hope.

It would be wrong.

“There were a lot of feelings running rampant in the caves yesterday. I… won’t deny that.” She recalled the adrenaline of almost dying, and the shock from almost losing him because she warned him too late. The joy when he returned.

All while reveling in the strange happiness and relief of victory.

She wouldn’t be surprised if half of the reforging process of the Hawkmoon was attributed to them simply growing closer. “Despite everything, he’s still a young Light. You know how those are. Unbridled Light heightens your emotions. If anything is acted upon by either one of us, it will all just lead to a broken heart for him. Can’t do that. He deserves a lot better.”

Maks added another log to the fire. “Tonight, I want to celebrate surviving. Or something like that. I just want to not think most of all. Think I’ve done too much thinking at times.”

“Is dubious alcohol really a good idea tonight?”

“No. Not at all, actually.” She stabbed the cork of the bottle with a knife, and pulled it out. “I believe it to be a terrible idea. But let’s pretend!”

“Right.”

When she saw the bonfire light up his pale features on approach, she tossed him a bottle.

“I think next time I’ll prefer to be a scout and stick to the high route. Had my fun.” Crow said as he opened the bottle. Compared to what is served in the Empty Tank, it smelled like heaven. He pulled the hood down, noting how every single time he has done that it surprised her. It didn’t look like she was _recognizing_ someone, though. It was something else entirely.

“Have fun while you can with that.” Maks told him whilst shaking herself out of it. “Once we get you to the Tower, Shaxx won’t have time for those battle strategies. Enjoy the silence while on the Shore, too.”

Maks was the only one who made escaping seem plausible, but not believable. They clinked the bottles together, and took a swig. It burned in their veins, providing a satisfying warmth. The hope in his golden eyes will not go away for a while.

She, however, looked pensively at the fire. _What was she doing?_ She thought.

Crow noticed it, but knew that bringing it up would be a bad idea. He wanted to lift her spirits; they overcame their first big mission together, defeating the Taken was a cause for celebration. One sip led to another, and before they both knew it, laughter filled the cold air. All that mattered then were their own stupid jokes, those that made no sense to anyone else, and their own stupid re-enactments of battles fought previously, pretending that almost empty bottles were swords. Laughing some more when one of the bottles broke and glass shards missed one of their faces by an inch. Then it became a bit of a competition, and there was no better way to test out the gun they just acquired than empty bottles.

It had been the most perfect war to ever pass through the world.

Once the alcohol finally came for their legs, they returned to sitting on the ground. Their Ghosts stayed out of healing them, or even helping them to not make bad choices.

They’ll get to gloat in the morning.

Something to look forward to.

Maks put her head on his shoulder, her fluffy hair lightly tickling his jaw. She was grateful that the side with the spiky pauldron wasn’t facing her. They sat like that for a while, listening to the crackly radio and the winds. He smiled at her; he didn’t even need to say it anymore.

A nice feeling, Crow told himself, as both of their thoughts became thinner and thinner.

Just for a couple of hours, they forgot about everything. The forces which created them, the forces who set them up on different lonely paths. The monsters that caused their deaths, and even the things that brought them together.

Maks definitely achieved her goal of not thinking.

For some strange reason, it all was really pretty. The scenery was beautiful, with just the right amount of darkness in the morning.

Crow felt a sudden chill when she leaned away after a while, and realized that he didn’t reciprocate the gesture. It was too late now. She took out her Quickfang to turn the embers in the almost dead bonfire with it.

Forgetting that they both just recently consumed an obscene amount of wine - perhaps, partly attributed to the fact that they destroyed the empty bottles with a hand cannon and there was no reminder - Crow tried to stand up, only to instantly fall over, flat on his face.

“Oh sh—” Maks gasped, and instantly cringed, dropping the sword. “Are you okay?!”

He insisted that he was fine, by murmuring into the ground as his arms were too weak to give her a thumbs up.

After a moment, Maks laid down right in front of him, resting her head on her hand. She saw one happy golden eye peeking out through the hair, alongside glowing Awoken ripples.

“You’re comfortable there?” She asked with a smile. She wasn’t going to drag him all the way back to the Lair.

Crow gave a quick chuckle. “Yeah…” He murmured, blowing some of the hair out of his vision. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.”

Maybe he should say something now, about how he felt.

Crow liked knowing that she’ll always be there when he needs her. What a difference she had made to the world around him. That day made for one of his best memories, that he most likely won’t remember come morning.

At least he will always remember the rest.

He had no idea how to tell her anymore. He wasn’t sure how much of that should be blamed on the wine. He didn’t think he should tell her. He wasn’t ready. He didn’t know how to. He wasn’t ready to say it. He didn’t know he could. He didn’t even think he could say it anymore.

Crow found his eyes going heavy, and blissful sleep taking over.


	16. Hangover.

Crow’s eyes slowly fluttered open, his mouth was filled with sand. He heard faint sounds of Glint’s shell moving and wiggling gently somewhere in the wind.

He found himself on the cold ground of the Tangled Shore. A light dusting of something snow-like hung around his head.

“What happened…?” Was the first thing the Lightbearer mumbled out that morning, his thick voice reverberating in his skull. He wasn’t sure his Ghost could hear him.

It genuinely felt like a pathetic cry for help.

He remembered flashes. Laughter, Maks’ smile, wine burning in his veins… happiness. Nice feelings. Nice memories, all of which made the migraine not letting him think of better words worth it. Crow smiled at the images in his head.

“Don’t you remember?” Glint was right in his face, purposely making his eye as wide as the shell would let him. The blue light of his eye made Crow wince slightly.

“… what?”

“You kissed Maks by the bonfire.” Crow’s eyes became as large as The Traveler and he _jolted_ upright.

His head exploding from all the surrounding light made him shutter them again.

The Young Awoken found himself on the ground once more, on his back this time, desperately waiting until his brain caught up with his heart regarding what he was just told about.

_He…_

_He did…  
_

Glint started laughing like he had never laughed before, couldn’t hold it in for as long as he wanted to. “Just kidding! Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You had a lot of fun otherwise. A sword fight with bottles and guns happened.”

Crow tried to focus on his Ghost, then hundreds of bullets, and then _sea_ of glass shards, which at _one_ point were wine bottles, scattered around, but came to realize he had to deal with mentally getting stabbed with an arc blade first.

Metaphorically speaking. It was a great wake up call, at least.

He pulled his familiar dark hood over his eyes, not sure if out of sheepishness or because the light _really_ hurt. Glint realized that he has had his fun, so the trusty friend began healing his Guardian. It would be a bit cruel to keep at it. Crow's never been drunk before, and for what it's worth, he'll claim that to still be true.

“Hope I didn’t say anything stupid…” Crow noticed that she wasn’t there, and that his Ghost was now oddly silent. It then occurred to Crow that he had no recollection about how the night ended, and what led to him choosing that sleeping position, as if someone decked him in the face and left him there to die.

Unfortunately, he’s had experience with that kind of thing that he’d rather not think about right then. Crow felt his jaw for bruises with his hand, only to find a lot of sand on the side of his face and hair. “Did… I say anything stupid?”

“If you mean in the way I _think_ you mean it, then no.” Glint said as he worked. “And you got so drunk you couldn’t walk, and fell over. If you want to know.”

“Huh.” Crow wondered if he and his Ghost were on the same page regarding the definition of the word ‘ _stupid’_. Or if he himself knew what in the Light he was talking about.

“If you’re wondering, she had to run to say goodbye to Rosaline, who’s leaving for Europa again. Back to work for us.” The _limitless_ and _bountiful_ joy in Glint’s voice… To be totally fair, they’ve been slacking for long enough despite the good cause. Glint gently lifted the dark and tattered hood with the tip of his shell, blocking most of the light. He noticed that strange expression on his Guardian’s face underneath it, the far away one, same one that appears when he's brainstorming what could be done to improve the lure.

“Crow?”

“Glint.”

“Did you want to say something _‘stupid’_ to her?”

“What…?” Crow strained his eyes to look at Glint. He carefully pushed the Ghost an inch further back so he’d come into focus. “No…? She’s a friend.”

"You’re turning purple…!” Glint observed playfully, flying in circles. “Guess I know!”

Crow rolled his golden eyes. It was all very new to him, but something that had to be put aside.

“ _You’re_ purple.”

He finally sat up, all healed, only to see Maks’ and Rosaline’s ships soar through the sky and disappear into the distance.

“Where are they going?”

“Her Ghost sent a notice…” Glint began reading. “ _Something on Europa, something really bad._ ”

* * *

Rosaline and Maksim rested in front of the burning corpse of Taniks, deep within the crashed Crypt. They weren’t going to leave a _piece_ of him behind. The other associates left the moment the battle was done, but they had to finish the job. Every remaining piece that can’t be destroyed will be shared between the two Guardians. They lost track of how many Golden Guns and Arc missiles they threw at the remains.

“Why can’t anyone rest in this god forsaken place?” Maks grunted, fighting the weariness. “One way or the other.”

“I never met Andal, died before my time. I do know he didn’t deserve to have his murderer gettin’ constantly revived.”

“Hm.” Maks crossed her arms tighter, both for warmth and in annoyance. There was no comfort in anything left. The world found a way to send her a message whenever she got comfortable or finished grieving someone.

“Say, how would you feel if the piss boy what-the-hell-his-face who killed Cayde got revived?”

This conversation wasn’t happening. Rosaline was too smart and Maks’ inability to lie would trigger the cascade.

“Just curious, did you ever meet the ‘ _piss boy what-the-hell-his-face_ ’?” Maks could not repeat it with a straight face.

“No. Because he was allegedly a bastard of Dreaming City. I don’t go there.” Rosaline threw another grenade to the pile. “But even with all my barriers, I knew that he was the biggest asshole to ever live.”

There it was again.

Past continuing its haunts.

Maybe it were because she was still harboring unresolved angry feelings, or maybe it were because she was still very, _very,_ hungover.

“You weren’t there for me when Cayde died. How I’d feel about that is none of your business.” Maks’ brows were almost knitted together as she remembered what pulled them apart in the first place two years ago. What made her so mad was that she’d never heard the phrase ‘ _a broken family makes the broken people’._

Both of them begged for the fire to burn quicker, but the ferocity of the fire got transferred onto them. Those flames were burning like an enormous sun.

“You disappeared on both me and Veronica without saying _anything_. I guess I was too nice to you? Maybe I didn’t want to see. No… We don’t have the time or the guts to go back in time. I’m sorry for whatever we missed. I’ll leave you to it.” Rosaline was too strong too say ’ _I’m sorry’_. Was too soft and too tired to try to save Maks right then. That's what the Hunter did, left things because that was the only thing she had control over. If there was anything Maks was, she was inspiring people to keep going no matter what.

The Titan continued through clenched teeth: “The world we create isn’t perfect. And we’re _all_ on the _same_ shit in hell, Maksim. It’s not perfect, but it’s _right_. That’s the world you’re entering into, too. So, to act like you’re distant or lost and then disappear, then to have people in your life who take the opportunity to see you and then pushing them away, that’s not who were before Cayde died.”

“What’s your point?”

Rosaline's eyes wouldn't leave Maks, and the Titan has had more productive moments just staring at the City Wall than this. She suddenly felt a tremendous pain.

“You’re too good for that. That’s who you’re going to be. All right? You’re too strong. All right? You’re too capable. All right? You’re too intelligent. You’re too powerful. The point is, _don’t do that_ _!_ ”

Maks still hadn’t sorted out what she was truly feeling to hear what her former friend said. Keeping a stiff face was slowly turning into a nightmare of its own. Rosaline was right about all of it, she always was. Nothing could be done about Maks' inability to admit it just yet.

“Don’t judge. Rosalie, look at the world and the choices _you’ve_ made for the sake of avoiding to see _your_ world.” Maks got up from the cold ground. She was going to end this exchange. “Even if the actions you make haven’t helped _anyone_ you care about, at least you get to see the world in a different way.”

With her sword, Maks split the charred remains of Taniks in two and her Ghost transmatted her part to her ship.

“Yes, that’s what I’ve done. That’s what I _do_!” Rosaline clenched her fists, trying to not let the Arc energy erupt. She got off the ground too, and steeled herself. “I’ve lived in the shadow of the people I love and tried my best to make them be better people.”

The Hunter whirled around, knuckles white from gripping her sword:

“Because if you’re a friend who wants to watch people in your life grow and appreciate you and be with you, then all the _shit_ you claim you do would have been helpful!” Maks was _shouting_ at this point, her anger bouncing off of every plane in the field, the Quickfang right in front of Rosaline’s pale blue nose. She suddenly closed her eyes, unclenched her fists, and relaxed. There was no use. “I get that you have reasons, why you’re willfully ignorant about the Awoken. I would have been willing to put it past me to be there for someone.”

Maks sighed, and let the transmat bring her back to her ship.


	17. The Dawning. Part I

**They call it the Dawning.**

It is a celebration of friendship and hope and warmth.

“Crow!” Maks beamed excitedly once she was past The Spider and done bribing him, carrying a fancy metal cookie tin in her hands. “Hey! I’ve got you someth–! Oh.” Maks almost stumbled backwards when she halted in her steps, needing to grab a wall to not make a fool out of herself. “Oh, no.”

The wrong bird was there.

The phoenix one.

That wasn’t _her_ bird.

“I see that you’ve grown quite _close_ to the Young Awoken.”

The same reflexes struck her as those that normally strike her when a Cursed Thrall is slowly walking towards her. Sometimes it were prayer, sometimes it were the urge to run away and pursue a nice quiet life in the mountains. Never reaching for her gun, though.

Reaching for a gun was always bad. What unsettled her the most was the hidden fatherly and protective aura surrounding Osiris. 

“You want to have this conversation?” She awkwardly asked Osiris, everything about her stiff and unsure as she made a valiant effort to not shrivel up under the looming inevitable conversation. Osiris didn’t scare her, per-se. There were a handful of topics that she didn’t want to discuss with him. He was an _associate_ , a grumpy one at times, but nothing close to a friend or family. Her previous partners didn't have parents and their approval to worry about.

“I do.” The Pyramids may come to consume what remains of humanity, and Osiris would not stop crossing his arms and be displeased with other people. She cleared her throat, eyes slowly moving from various dirty spots in Crow's lair as she got adjusted to this sudden new world.

Lucky for her, there have been days where she couldn’t stand any silence and filled the void with radio chatter.

She also had common sense.

Just enough of it.

“I think it’s fair to say that we’re both on the same level when it comes to... _this_ , Osiris.” She heard him grunt in disapproval underneath the mask at the audacity. He held respect towards her, yes, but no one was given the privilege to compare themselves to him. “When I rescued the love of your life, I did not exactly rag you about your personal life and the ethics of breaking literal _time_ to be with someone.” Maks withheld a snort. It was really stupid, if someone wanted her to be honest. "We shouldn't be looking at each other to justify our choices."

Osiris walked _right_ into that one. 

And he _despised_ that he walked right into that one.

Maks, despite her outwardly appearance and the image she painted of herself, was deadly when provoked.

“I suppose that no matter how I respond to that, it won’t make me look better.” He cleared his throat. “However, it’s not about that. We’re weeks away from finding the High Celebrant. Make sure that whatever it is you’re doing... strengthens you both before the coming battle.”

Why did she feel relieved that he wasn't disappointed? She got what he was saying, but she needed a moment before she could continue on this conversation.

“How’s he doing?” Maks put the nice smelling box on the table of Crow’s workshop. There was a need for a change of subject. “According to you.”

“He’s eager to learn, a fast study. You’ve seen his progress yourself. One thing that I’m surprised by, however, is that he isn’t breaking his neck to impress you. He's learning from you.” Osiris eyed her, with something in his eyes she couldn’t recognize. “ _Interesting_.”

“That’s because I’ve chosen to walk alongside him on the road, and not fly in the sky high above him.” Maks said. “I don’t think anyone should be _that_ hard to live up to in the first place. We’re friends. Equals.”

The Warlock tilted his head, noticing the growing confusion on her face as she couldn't read him nor his motives.

“I can’t say I expected this outcome back when we began. Your bloodbath for revenge changed the Shore for ages to come. Anger and grief of that scale doesn’t dissipate into nothingness, hence my suspicions.” He knew, if anyone.

“It doesn’t go away. It really doesn’t.” Maks sighed, hand absentmindedly on the Ace. “But taking it out on an innocent isn’t fair either. If anything, he can teach me to be a better person. He has, I guess.”

She just hadn’t put it in practice.

Osiris thought that he’d hear her out. This new charge, The Dawning and Saint being back… softened him.

“Is that so.”

Maks nodded, mirroring him with crossed arms.

“I lost one friend, and I went _ballistic_. Including on all other friends I had. Closest friends of mine, other heroes equally responsible for dead gods, became _associates_ , and there was just a lonely road.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling him this. Additionally, he didn’t need to hear tales about ostracizing one’s friends for a cause. “Crow has been through a lot of pain, all of it undeserved. All the trauma, the horrors. He _never_ let any of it change him to a worse person. They’re both so kind, despite their terrible world.”

Maybe Crow had the desire to not put everyone else through what he went through, no matter in which life. Perhaps he wanted to undo all the damage his past self had done. She didn’t want to speculate.

Soft footsteps rounded the corner, trying to be stealthy. She swore she could hear an invisibility cloak wearing off. There was the bird she was looking for. He looked slightly surprised when he saw her, maybe expecting her still to be fighting the unknown horrors on Europa.

“Young Awoken.” Osiris turned to him, uncrossing his arms. “I have a task for you later. For now,” He looked at them both, then at the box she had brought him. They reminded him a bit of something.

Curse The Dawning. “I’ll leave you be.”

Osiris swiftly left the room, leaving a feather or two behind in his wake.

“A task?” Maks wondered.

“He’s been teaching me a Hive dowsing ritual so we can map out the inter-dimensional pathways through the Ascendant Plane. Use what we’re learning about the Cryptoliths to track down the High Celebrant.”

“Ahhh.”

Crow puffed out his chest. “He says I’m a fast study, and maybe the Spider might allow him to continue tutoring me when this is over. There’s a lot I could learn from him.”

The corner of his mouth crooked up. “When I asked him where he learned so much about the Hive, he told me not to ask questions I wasn’t ready to have the answers to.” Crow laughed. "I can see why people think he’s kind of an ass.”

“Wait until you hear the rest one day. He's... he's a lot kinder now. It creeps me out a bit.” She shook her head, pushing away the exhaustion that came with thinking about it. "By the way, I got you something!” Maks showed Crow the box. “Here!”

She kept her promise, from back when they were stationed in the Dreaming City some time ago.

Crow slowly took the oval shaped box from her hands. The red and black lid was adorned with carefully and precisely hand drawn Dawning imagery, and right in the middle there was a white silhouette of a crow flying freely. He soon after that noticed the scent of almond and chocolate, and opened the box very carefully - as not to damage the lid - to find the biscuits inside.

He looked at her, gratitude filling his eyes.

She always surprised him. No one has done a gesture like that for him. He never expected to get something this intricate when it was just him and Glint all alone last Dawning, or to someone care about him enough to take the time to do this.

“I uh, paint and mod my guns myself, so I picked up some skills along the way. The people of the City seem to enjoy these.” Maks glanced at the lid. It still smelled a little bit of varnish. “Treats are courtesy of City’s bakery. I… can’t bake. They won't taste like gun oil.” As Eva very _gently_ let her know in her own unique choice of words, but Maks wasn’t going to mention that.

“It’s pretty!” Glint marveled, seeing his own reflection in the red shiny surface. 

“ _You’re_ pretty.” She complimented the Ghost, and he wiggled with happiness.

“Awh.” He turned his eye to his Guardian. “She called me pretty _first_. Feeling jealous, Crow?”

Crow snapped to attention when he heard his name, making Maks laugh softly. A soft and kind laugh, a rare one.

“Happy Dawning, Crow.” Maks realized she hadn’t said it yet.

Still, the Guardian said nothing, making Maks worry slightly. She started to wonder if she went too far. He put the box down on the workbench, treating it with utmost care, and the next thing she felt were the scales of his armor lightly cutting into her jacket when he hugged her tightly. Her face was slightly flushed purple, but there was a slight smile at the corner of her lips as she returned the hug.

They pulled apart after a moment, a bit wobbly and awkwardly, but it didn’t matter.

“Thank you.” Crow said softly. “Truly.”


	18. The Dawning. Part II

_A gift need not be material. Sometimes your presence, a little favor, or some advice is just as welcome. The Dawning is a time to care for one another._

Why was Saint looking at her like that?

He had his famous helmet on, but she could sense his gaze following her as she got responsibilities done around the Hangar. Her ship needed engine modifications, _she didn’t exactly blame it on Crow being rough on her ship_ , so she was completely stranded in the Tower for the moment.

Realizing that her resolve was far weaker than the Titan’s skull, she approached him carefully. Didn’t want to scare his bird friends away.

“My _friend!_ Happy Dawning!” Saint stretched out his arms, waiting, the colorful Dawning lights reflecting off his shiny armor. “No hug? That’s okay.”

Even after all these years, there were days when she struggled to speak while in the Tower. No one in the City could recognize her by voice alone. Protecting Crow lit up enough of a fire before, but now she couldn’t find the words.

Saint noticed it, but he wasn’t going to make her do something she wasn’t comfortable with. “My fiery bird told me about you and a child under his care in the Shore. A Crow!” He watched her nod. “What do you think of him?”

_Ah._

_Now_ she knew.

It was getting just a _little_ bit uncomfortable. Maks couldn’t bring herself to be an ass to Saint. He meant well.

“Crow? I-I enjoy being around him.” She spoke slowly whilst trying to not look down at her feet, and Saint listened with great interest. “It’s nothing romantic. Traveler deemed that we needed each other, and we do.” Maks rubbed the back of her neck. “Can’t speak for him.”

“You sound afraid. Fear and love don’t go together.”

“Not to sound like a Nightstalker stereotype, but it’s all temporary.” Maks frowned a little, facing the truth. “This world dies every few months, and then it begins again. If the world’s heart was in actually letting me keep something, then maybe I’d consider not disappearing somewhere once the job is done.” She cringed at the word choice.

Saint never stopped remaining optimistic, especially in front of the Guardian of Guardians. A title which she wanted to erase from time but it was a title that he honored with his life.

He was rooting for her. For both of them, in fact. Something good had to prevail in this world. He pushed away his worry for Osiris.

“No. That won’t do! You have to take it for yourself.” The tall Titan advised, welcoming a pigeon which landed on his shoulder. “There were once these old eyes longing for a clear sky. In a night, without the smallest hope, without any stars. A never visited and unknown shore next to an ocean of Vex!” Saint spoke boisterously, catching the attention of the workers around him. “A fiery bird returned to me, and made me realize that I actually knew what to do to make everything bright.”

Saint put his large hand hand on her shoulder. She was so _very_ tiny compared to him, but she wished she could be even smaller. “Now Maksim, I think there are two main paths, both paths are terrible, which means, they don’t really matter. Neither does this poetry.”

An involuntary squeaky and awkward laugh escaped Maks. “I was with you until _that_.”

“I know _The Guardian of Guardians_ wouldn’t _wait_ for the world to let her keep happiness.” He squeezed her shoulder before letting go. “The _world_ won’t accompany you towards the light. Create a third path.”

Maks nodded, with more conviction and thought put into it that time around, letting the message soak in as she stood there awkwardly.

Amanda called her over just in time, and in a blur of hurry to get away, the Hunter was already in the sky.

She had to wonder. Was there something in the fumes of the paint she used? Maybe she should have pre-painted the boxes for Eva.

What was this bizarre world? It was past spinning.

“Did…” She began, struggling to concentrate on putting in the coordinates for the Shore. “Did they both…”

“Adopt Crow and then question you if you were right for him?”

“Not how I imagined it to go, but sure!” Maks finished setting the course, slammed her hands on the hand rests of her pilot’s seat, and squeaked out a high-pitched: “ _What_?!”

“You’ve got their approval!” The Ghost chimed. “I think. Saint definitely likes you, jury’s out about Osiris.”

Maks just accepted that this is how this place was.

Her place there wasn’t what she thought it was, it definitely was not where she thinks it’s going to be, and it’s not what she knows it’s going to be. And it’s never going to be what it was before. She sunk deeper into her chair, listening to the leather rub against her armor.

“You know, I was less anxious when dealing with the thralls and Hive lanterns in the Hellmouth.”

“Compared to what?” Bun asked.

“Dinner conversation topics.” She simply said, looking at the swirls of the solar system around her as her ship cut through space. The Ghost couldn’t help but laugh. He’s seen her in the depths of hell against Hive abominations. He’s been right by her side with every title she earned. But he had never seen her eyes grow so wide they could light up the entire City. She looked at him, eyes pleading for a rescue for a situation yet to happen. “There _will_ be awkward dinner conversation topics. I can't handle it, Bun.”

"Maybe Zavala will get invited too." The groan that came out of her was almost majestic.

"What have we learned about making wishes, Bun?"

"Wonder what he thinks of Crow..."

Maks covered her face with her hands. "Please _stop_."

* * *

The delicious biscuits, including the crumbs, were long gone. Wrathborn hunts kept his mind busy and focused on the work that needed to be done. They had to save every life they could from Xivu Arath’s torture, but they couldn’t continue working if they got stuck in a loop of dying from exhaustion and their Ghosts reviving them still tired. Immortality was not invincibility. Even The Spider had to sleep.

Had to prioritize the calm, the quiet moments. The lure was with Maks, so he couldn’t work on it at the moment.

Crow felt a little bit guilty about not getting her a Dawning gift. She assured him that it was fine, given the current situation, and that she didn’t want anything in return. It wasn’t what the Dawning was about.

He laid on the hard metal slab of a bed, and held the tin which once held the biscuits in his hands, still astonished by the detail. She included something with it, tech that lets him compress it to a small engram making it easy to hide. Spider would make him junk it otherwise.

“Ooh, get her a knife!” Glint suggested. “She likes knives!”

“Don’t you think that’d be a little _hostile_?”

“Hmmm…” The Ghost hummed. “How about a mistletoe?” He suddenly suggested the extreme polar opposite of gifting her a sharp knife for stabbing.

“… a what- ** _toe_**?” Crow recoiled in disgust.

Glint got way too excited about the prospect of making his Guardian a bit smarter.

“It’s a plant. Before the Collapse, during winter celebrations people would put a mistletoe somewhere. If two people met underneath it, they’d have to–”

“Absolutely _not_.” Crow looked away, sinking deeper into his hood until his face was out of sight from the Ghost. “This is not about that.”

He drew a blank. It was a bit upsetting how little he knew about her. Well, he knew _her_. He knew what made her laugh, what jokes annoyed her, her habits in fights. But not enough to know what to give her.

“How about something with an Ace? To match her gun?” Crow brainstormed. He’s never seen her without that hand cannon by her side. She opted to dual wield the guns, side by side, since they re-forged Hawkmoon. Nothing in the entire world was going to replace it.

“Uh…” Glint felt Maks’ bad lying skills transferring over to his little self. “I wouldn’t. It was her friend’s.”

Crow wondered if he ever met him before his own death. She made him sound like a great man. Someone who would help others no matter what.

Maybe he would have advice, if he were still alive. Maybe he owed the fact that Glint wasn't crushed to death when he first met her to her friend.

He turned the tin, and noticed an inscription on the back.

“What’s this?” He whispered, examining it. The words were faded, still persisting many years after the author had died. “ _When our spirits will come and go. When our dreams will go. When we will be forgotten. When our lives will begin again._ ”

Both of them got distracted by the sound of her crystalline ship somewhere outside, and footsteps followed shortly after. She was in her casual clothes, same ones she wore during their wine night. He didn’t notice the snake decorations on her cape and pants before.

“Want some company?” Maks asked, gripping a tablet in one of her hands. If he squinted, he could make out the words ‘ _Xivu Arath = Bad’._

“Happy to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was due to the Dawning, but a warmth filled him when she was there.

“Scoot!” She tapped him on his leg a couple of times to get him to move and let her sit next to him. Maks returned her attention to the tablet once she was situated. “Reached a situation where they won’t let me stay on the Shore unless I regularly write a report or two. Didn’t want to suffer alone.”

“What is there to do in the City?” Crow has never gotten the chance to ask, without getting interrupted by Osiris while they’re out hunting. She makes more and more trips to it lately. He has his own image of it in his head, but those can be dangerous.

“Oh, it depends on what you like.” She said, rather casually.

“What if I have a penchant for strong redheads?”

Maks paused writing for a second and smirked at him with a glint in her glowing eyes, which suddenly swayed away from the report and landed on his. Where did _this_ Crow come from? She recalled how he was when they first met in this very same room; speaking slowly, lost in a haze, seemingly feeling very sorry for himself.

“Based on my day so far; you land in the Tower, you find a bald, very armored, Awoken Titan, and ask him." She was almost upset that the joke didn't make sense to him. "That's a story to look forward to."


	19. Friends.

Crow still had nightmares. There was no avoiding them.

There were now two things in his life that helped him _live_ with them, but the nightmares would never be dispelled completely. He had to get out of there. He was not safe. His life was not secure. His Ghost would die tonight, and he would have no way to get him back. His mind flickers. The room’s quiet. The light is blinding. Crow feels so tired, so broken. When he’s calm, he can’t help but feel weak. He falls onto the ground. He stands back up, and looks around. He has no memories, no memory of himself. His eyes go wide, his stomach tight, he thinks of a dead friend. No memories of his past. He has no thought, no desire, no feeling. He's in space again. The world is just an endless void of nothing. His memory is so empty, he can feel the blood in his mind, feel it in his hands, taste it in his eyes, and smell it in the air. 

As if his strength is gone. Crow looks at the window and sees more. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t find a better place. He falls. He falls like a stone on a stone. The light is blinding.

The Young Awoken twitched slightly and murmured something under his breath in his sleep, worrying Maks who was still working on reports next to him. Glint hummed to his Guardian softly, trying to calm him down.

“Do those happen often?” Maks whispered, concern in her eyes.

“They come and go.”

There wasn’t anything more she could do. A cold, unforgiving reality. And it would have been far easier for this Lightbearer to give the appearance of being a villain instead of an independent hero.

Glint continued, he needed advice. “How do you both deal with your nightmares?”

“I don’t.” She erased another paragraph. Had to shorten it. “We’re on the opposite ends here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I stay awake until my brain begins to shut down its functions in an attempt to recharge itself so I start dreaming and I don’t know it.” Maks whispered, listening to the hum of the fan next to them. “When it happens, the effects are quite hard to tell from the reality as the memory is still very fragmented from the other half.”

There is always a small window of time that a dreamer may have been awake when it happens. While you can dream in this type of sleep this means it will cause you significant stress as the dreamer is not sleeping and its thinking about a nightmare as reality. Your memory becomes even harder to get and harder to remember, if you are able to make out the entire dream and the nightmare you could easily forget it.

“I wonder if we could find some help in the City, once the time comes.” He sighed. “I worry that it will get worse before it gets better for him. I don't expect the response to be nice _if_ we get to the City.”

Glint knew that she’ll be there to detract anyone who will attempt to hurt him further in the Tower. She had power, but couldn’t be by his side all the time either. He had to fly free at some point.

“Having Saint and Osiris on our side will be beneficial.” She laid down the tablet on her leg, awaiting further response. “Traveler help anyone who wants to fight Saint about anything. He's in good hands.”

The purple Ghost was afraid to hope. He knew better than to celebrate before they’ve won. Not that they've had much experience with victories to begin with.

“Crow still doesn’t know about what you’ve done, just so you know.” Glint looked at his sleeping Guardian. “He knows that you’re something important, but not about the… gods, or what you did in this place. We can’t hide that from him forever.”

It was like the loop had finally been closed, but the rope was about to be cut. This was the loop, even if she had to think of her way around it. And yet she was so afraid to say anything. She was so afraid to be honest. This could be all her imagination, all her dreams. She felt as though her skin could crack, her face would twitch.

There was no entertaining the idea that The Spider was right, about her spoiling him with pretty dreams and it all ending in him being disappointed in her. The Guardian of Guardians was everything _they_ wanted her to be, not what she was. Cayde didn’t want her to become an icon for a reason.

Maks couldn’t possibly keep up with that, could she?

She wanted him to have the life which was robbed from him.

“If I were to hear the truth, I would be angry.” Maks sighed and looked back at Crow. A sharp _thunk_ came from her left arm, and she felt a sense of dread cross her body. “The idea of the Traveler seems to be to use our misery and some glue to get a great looking mistletoe.”

There was a notification on the tablet. Back to work. “Even I can’t live up to me.”

Glint made sure that Crow was sound and deep asleep before he asked a question that has been eating away at him.

"Did you kill _him_?" No one in the City knew, there was only speculation. Many attributed the kill to her, so he jumped to conclusions.

"I didn't know about the corruption until after the fact. A lot of others did, including ones who left him to rot." Maks figured that answering another question was a better way to go. "When it came down to it, I was out of ammunition. And the Prince broke the gun." She rubbed her temple.

"I get it."

"I don't think anyone does. But..." Maks sighed. "Had I known that he was a shell filled with darkness, I would have done what needed to be done, even if I had to use a knife. Not out of vengeance, or whatever Petra did it for."

Glint glanced over to his Guardian, trying to picture it all, finding an impossibility.

"Who he was before couldn't have been _that_ indistinguishable from a corrupted shell." He's heard of the Prince and his exploits, but only through a twisted grapevine.

"If reality were up to me, Glint, you would have found your Guardian _six years_ before you did."

* * *

“ _They’re in for a surprise_.” Crow’s voice was breathy, almost tickling her ear through the earpiece. “ _You ready for this?_ ”

He was playing a very dangerous game right then, partly to annoy those listening in, but she had gotten used to it.

The Dawning didn’t mean a stop to the work they needed to do. She unsheathed her sword, as it was now muscle memory triggered by a Wrathborn screaming at the top of its lungs.

The _screaming._

Something about the _screaming_.

The twisting and turning, the corruption of it all, the _want_.

She would lose control and feel as though she’d done something wrong. This was nothing new, she had done it before, at least a few times, and it was easy enough to do. How could she not understand that she had done it before? How could she not know how wrong she was about her own actions? How could she be so afraid to show her face?

“ _… damn, where did it go?_ ”

Maks didn’t recognize the voice. _Why_ didn’t she recognize the voice?

“ _It’s gone. Limped right into the Ascendant Plane_.”

A third voice somewhere was complaining about distractions.

She hardly recognized where she was.

It felt as if all the time. She’d been talking to a lot of people, many powerful, as they started talking, and she started feeling… a chill, then an overwhelming fear, then a numbness and disorientation. Then, silence. Maks tried to take a breath to get rid of what she felt, finding herself unable.

There is no doubt that in that moment when she felt that the universe was turning on her, what she knew wasn’t something she should hold onto any longer. Then a heavy feeling that was different from the rest of the world’s, like something that was inside her, the presence inside her. She tried to fight the feeling, but soon, she couldn’t, couldn’t fight it.

As the silence ended, a small spark lit a tiny flame in the pit of her stomach. Maks looked up at the Cryptolith, not quite understanding why that felt wrong. There was a slight chill in her chest, something that her throat could neither expel nor take in. The Hunter turned her back to it, and the arena went silent again.

She had to go, get away from the tempting whispers consuming her.

That was the only thing she knew. She mounted her Sparrow and disappeared into the distance. Her instinct was to deal with it all alone, away from everyone else. She made up her mind to do it alone. It felt so natural, and she knew there was no sense in trying to make the others see her like this.

It was the most horrible feeling of all: A horrible feeling where someone was screaming at her, telling her to put the knife down. It was more than she could describe, but that made sense, too. _I need help right now, you need help right now…_

Her Ghost was trying to talk to her, get her to stop moving. She only dismounted when her Sparrow showed signs of exploding.

The only explanation was that the truth of the matter was that she was weak. She was not strong. The world wasn’t strong. This was bad. This was awful. This was a nightmare. They were all just as wrong as her had been. The truth was what she deserved. Her legs gave in, forcing her to fall down on the ground.

“ **Guardian**!” Her Ghost got through to her. “Stay calm…”

There was nothing for her Ghost to heal, as much as he tried and as much as it broke him to see her like this. They just had to survive this. They’ve survived this before. One small failure toppled her, too much had happened at once in the span of a few days. Maks hugged her legs closer to her and buried her face in her knees.

Her heart beat like mad as all her other limbs, her vision could break with a snap. What if she was wrong, what if she was wrong? Why?

_Your body is just not making it. Your mind is not working. Your body can’t process all of your emotions. You are trying so hard not to worry about anything. I’ve heard a lot of stories about_ _people who have trouble coping with that. Your mind is working really well, but you are not working._

_I’ve been there._ She thought. She hadn’t talked to anybody since.

“You are still alive.” Bun imitated a whisper.

“I’m alive. I’m alive.” Maks repeated, in a whisper.

There was a long silence.

“I’m alive.”

“You are alive.”

Maks listened to the sounds around her. Creaking, Scorn crying out somewhere. Stillness of the universe.

Then, soft footsteps. Careful ones. A calm and familiar presence. She heard the sound of armor shifting and someone sitting down beside her quietly. She let one of her arms drop down, rest of her unmoving. He gently took her cold hand in his, offering a sense of much needed comfort.

The flirting, the all of it, the bets, the wondering who will close the distance first when they stood too close, it was – admittedly – fun. But it was a band aid, a coping mechanism for a bigger problem. Heightened emotions because of loss and hurt, and their respective worlds spinning out of their control. It wasn’t a choice, rather it was something to cope with. It wasn’t an accident; there was a deeper reason to their plight. And they didn’t get the chance to explain it to anybody, and maybe even themselves.

Rid of disillusionment and accept this bizarre dream.

What both of them needed the most was a _friend_ , they needed _each other_.

Both of them have had their own struggles with these very things, but have found the strength to accept those struggles and carry on, even as they struggle with each other and with themselves.

Tangled Shore made time non-existent. They were seemingly there for hours, not saying a word. The light swirls on their joined hands pulsed in unison.

Once Maks had calmed down, Crow gently helped her up without a word and they began the walk back. And so the Guardians continued on their mission to save this Shore. This is their responsibility; it is their mission. Together they will be victorious.

Together they will win.


	20. The Road Of Being Alone Is Finished.

The Spider and Maksim were glaring at one another like animals ready to eviscerate each other any millisecond. She sent her Ghost to her ship prior to this conversation, just to be safe. If anyone in that room touches her Ghost, she’s burning the lair down. Her fists were shaking behind her back.

An angry, broken person because she felt like she didn’t do anything right.

They had to explain how they lost the Wrathborn when she lost herself. Couldn’t afford them thinking that she was unfit for the mission. 

Had to contain the anger and keep it together until Crow was flying free. He was somewhere behind her, but the Spider ingrained the knowledge into the young Awoken as to what would happen if he threw his thoughts into this stalemate. Maks wouldn’t let him, either.

This was her fault. Or, she rationalized that it was. 

“It will not happen again.” Each word of hers agitated The Spider further. “It’s _business_.”

“I’m not one afraid to send my boys after you until your Ghost comes out.” Spider threatened. “I don’t like empty promises. Put a hand on the gun, and the little bird’s Light goes out along with his morsel.”

Spider _could_ be bluffing, but none of it was worth the risk. Maks slowly crossed her arms to appear non-threatening.

“Can _you_ afford that?”

To her surprise, he laughed hoarsely.

“Nothing as profitable as pain and suffering, my friend.” Nothing resembling a joke in his tone. “The rich and powerful Lightmonger has too much to lose to risk losing her soul. Don’t give a Spider something you can’t afford to lose.”

It is the realization of mortality that is the very essence of life. It pained her to have anyone’s death referred to as merely ‘ _the end_ ’. She glanced up at the dead Ghosts trapped in his nest. A Guardian life in the Shore was worth far less than the cost of that suffering.

The Spider gestured them both to leave with his claw, and all they could do was abide.

Another lure quietly stabbed into the ground to bring them another wave of tedium. She still had her arms crossed, eyes on the Cryptolith. She’ll be prepared for the scream this time. For all she knew, the scream was a dream.

“The Cryptolith is no longer only turning the weak.” Crow began, voice hesitant and slightly shaky. “For a moment, I thought that Xivu Arath had begun to convert you.” The voice broke on the end of the sentence.

“Hm.”

She didn’t want to come off as uncaring. She was still greatly shaken up.

“Glint told me that the Light strengthens your will, but doesn’t direct your decisions. Mentioned a story about a Rezyl Azzir, his touch of evil being an endless supply of pain.” He was sure that she knew the tale. She knew a lot more about the Hive than she was allowed to let on to. “This thing corrupts by granting desire. He told me that once you start to feel that you’re under their spell, you’ll start to believe that no one can help you.”

He paused for a moment. “It’s hard enough to turn yourself into someone else and get away with it, but to do so while your body is made to serve the Hive is truly disgusting. This means you’ll have no other choice but to surrender control of your own existence and mind to a Hive God and keep doing everything, and they’ll find another way to win if you don’t. I’d rather die.”

Maks’ fingers couldn’t stay in fists, desiring to become endless knots.

“Do you hear any voices?” She asked him, maybe actually talking will help distract the anxiety. It was still rumbling somewhere, but not nearly as strong as before. A spark was trying to replace it.

“Not anymore, of the Cryptolith that is. The Dreaming City is something different.” Crow closed his eyes and breathed out. “I’ll never forget the feeling when it noticed me. Constrained by some outside force that had a strong grasp on my mind.”

He has learned his lesson that he shouldn’t dare to be curious about what the voices tried to tell him. Their world didn’t need more deaths by Guardian hands.

Maks recalled everything she learned while cleansing the Thorn. Somehow the gun she crafted still felt too sacred to use. There was a time when it brought her great comfort and joy to know that she was capable of purging away the darkness from the vilest of symbols. Simpler times, before the Pyramids arrived and weighted her down with guilt.

What she figured at last, was that she was thrown in a world with no guidance. Her world was too fractured and broken to remember the lessons she went through.

Guidance.

_Rezyl…_

Somewhere in her ship she still had the letters from Shin.

Letters she hadn’t thought about in years, she forgot she had them at all.

Maks considered burning them when she first read them, saw it as another bout of accusatory nonsense making fun of her grief and the fabled Guardian not minding his own business. Now, she was ecstatic that she still had them.

“Someone told me that the journey is not your own. It’s shared. It has impact. It has consequences, often subtle or even overt and even difficult to grasp. I didn't listen for a long time.” Maks couldn’t claim to remember the verbiage. “I think with the Hawkmoon we created a future that is different than the one Hive _intended_ for us.”

“Why _us_?” Crow didn’t disagree, it’s just that nothing stopped him from being curious.

In this journey there are going to be moments where you feel something or even realize that something is not right. That you did something wrong and you can’t figure out why. That you are doing things wrong. If you are not feeling this right now, you will be in the midst of a period of infinite rest and introspection that leads to nowhere.

At this point you will have seen how the journey affects those around you more than the destination itself. When you have given everything you have, you will be able to move on and give more. You will be able to find a connection that you can share. You will move on, and find meaning in it. And you will make the right choice.

Your journey is not over. You’ve made some choices, but more still you have to go forward. So, it isn’t over yet. It can go on. It can go on and on. One day the journey may end.

“I don’t know.” Maks said earnestly. “Perhaps we were two Awoken afflicted by the same darkness, both terrified and in need of help, completely beyond saving. Then thrown in a loop which would not end.”

“Had to die to be capable of helping each other in a meaningful way.”

“Maybe a sign that we shouldn’t dwell on it.”

He laughed softly, music to her ears. “Good argument as any.”

You cannot change it. So, you take your next step.

Don’t let it become too difficult. Don’t let yourself feel like the journey is not worth doing. Don’t let it become a self destroying burden.

Now, if you make a list of all of your decisions, things that you wish you could have done differently. And it gets even better.

You can do things right.

Whatever put them there, it helped them understand themselves. It helped them see things that they might not have seen before.

Make your choices. Make the things that you really wish you could have done better. Do the things that will make you a better person. The consequences can be pretty painful, the most painful being to choose who to keep in your life.

The wind was strong, and the sun had already risen with a golden glow across their world. He could feel it as it began to gather intensity. It would not end here.

You are in a place right now – and you’re not quite sure if you want to know where it is, but you know where you want to go.

“Maks, when this ends… just know that I’m grateful to have worked alongside you.” They turned to look at each other, both smiling. His hand found a way to the side of her arm. “It feels like the road of being alone is finished, and I am glad to be your friend.”

The past is gone for you, and the future comes.

As if Xivu Arath herself was offended by the lack of despair, a Wrathborn took the lure, and it all began again.


	21. The Truth. For Cayde.

“I can’t stop thinking about what happened the other day.” Bun spoke with hidden sadness in his voice. “Xivu Arath shouldn’t be able to convert Guardians. But if there is a risk…”

“Let’s not base our theories on what Hive _should_ and _shouldn_ ’t be able to do. We didn't think Oryx could take an army for himself.” Maks was re-lacing her armor. A Fallen knife tore up the wires. It helped with keeping her fingers busy. “I’m the prime target of the Hive. If Xivu Arath isn’t actively trying to find a way to turn my head inside and out to make me become her unstoppable puppet, I’ll be astonished.”

The Hive realized long ago that they couldn’t kill her. Claiming her for themselves made sense to her. She was a person, though it wasn’t real for them. They were like animals, she felt, being so dependent on someone who wasn’t here. 

“The Light feels so feeble lately.” The Ghost sighed. “It feels like we lost our footing when we thought we had taken a big step toward the future.”

They’ve lost their footing when they thought they were heading toward a new era of adventure and joy and fulfillment. They’ve lost their footing when they realized that there is no future. They’ve lost their footing when they understood that there is no time and there is no way.

“We can’t bet on the Light protecting us. We can only bet on protecting each other.” Maks unlaced the armor, and started again. “I don’t know how to resist it. How to stop it from happening again. It’s the unknown that gets me.”

“I’ll be there. Always. I hope you know that.” Her Ghost made sure that she knew. “I’ll let you know what’s real and isn’t.”

Maks carefully held him and pulled him closer. She didn’t deserve him. With all the gentleness she was capable of, she picked off some dirt from his bright shell. He laughed softly as it tickled. 

“We’ll take a break once this is all over, alright? Three months, just us doing what we feel like it. No matter what.” She smiled at him, but he seemed uncertain. “Free Crow and just… fu— _disappear_ somewhere. Become this mysterious Guardian and Ghost duo!”

He couldn’t remember the last time he heard her be that excited. It’s like her heart was beating again.

“Are you sure that a little R&R is going to cut it?”

“It will, as long as we have each other.” She squeezed him softly before letting him go. “We’re going to find people’s stuff, and then we’re going to go for pie.”

“No Vex will be able to vex us, and no Taken will be able to take us down.” They both laughed, but for different reasons. “Don’t tell Glint, but… I’m pretty sure I found the best Guardian.”

He bumped into her hand, trying to replicate a high-five the best he could. They had a goal to work towards. She would never break a promise.

Sounds of a Golden Gun somewhere nearby did almost break the sound barrier. Maks dodged, slipping into an invisibility cloak but it was too late. She heard him open fire again, and knew that he would murder her if she went too far. Maks aimed her gun at where the sound was coming from, but still could not spot him.

“Where…”

Her heart raced. Was _one_ small slip-up too much for the man? Maks fired a shell and sent it careening through the air, the sound blew out into silence. There was something behind her in the dark, something from which she could not see. Her head jerked upwards and looked round. Another shot rang out, and shook her violently from her confusion and forced her to focus again.

Maks then instantly saw it. Saw the source.

She had… never felt so stupid, as a matter of fact.

Re-discovering Shin’s letters introduced a segment of fear into her situation. Not close to the same fear as the Hive have done.

The familiar figure was not too far away from her, the _bird_.

Crow was practicing his shots. She couldn’t make out the expression in his face from where she was, but Glint was bouncing, seemingly very happy and immensely proud of his Guardian. Maks wasn’t sure if it was a high from realizing Shin wasn’t coming after her to kill her, but she found the sight _incredibly_ cute.

Maks let the two be, and returned to her camp and fixing the rest of her armor. The dents never stopped.

“Shaxx is going to like him.” She laughed to herself. “Another notable Gunslinger entering the midst. Can you imagine?”

“While we’re on the topic of the Tower, Ikora relayed a message to you.”

“I’m _sorry_?”

Only time Maks and Ikora had something that could be called a conversation was when Cayde died. Rest of their interactions consisted of either of them just being present. “What?”

“She wants to know how Osiris is. How he’s holding up. She sounds worried.”

She hadn’t gotten to thinking about Sagira yet. Both she and Crow were experiencing a blessed moment of reprieve that they definitely took for granted. She glanced over, Glint was dancing around Crow, presumably rating how his charge stood in battle. Gunslingers were _obligated_ to have their signature finesse, and Shaxx could be heard complaining about their elitism.

A friendship of no Guardian could replace the close companionship of a Ghost. A bond of insurmountable trust.

Sagira was the perfect match for Osiris. A funny sunshine brightening the deepest and darkest sea to make it easy to navigate. Maks wondered how many times since the Moon he said a thought out loud without thinking, just to hear her rebuttals to it, only to find empty silence.

Worst heartache when Maks lost her own Light during the Red War came from the thought that she’ll never see her Ghost again. To not be able to turn around and have him always be there. She could live without the Light, with bruises that require patience to mend.

But not without her best friend.

A Ghost was a Guardian’s heart. Every graze on their shell was a tiny heartache.

Thinking about how Osiris asked her to elaborate on how she handled the loss of Cayde felt different now. She didn’t regret her answer.

“Well…” Maks began the report. She knew that if she would start writing it, it would take hours. “As you know, there is a new Light on the Shore. Osiris has appointed himself as a teacher, a father figure of sorts. I hold worry for his motives, for his incapability to stop. I worry that the grief might get him to push this new Light too far. There are talks about Hive dowsing rituals.” Maks was about to call it, but something didn’t let her just yet. “You know I’m the wrong person to ask this question, the one who got so consumed with rage that she didn’t listen to logic and broke this Shore.”

After all, she was still a young Light herself. Years later she’ll remember this and be angry for being so naïve.

“Guardian, what would have you told yourself?” Bun kept the report going. “Osiris, whether you like it or not, is well… like _you_.”

“Is it really up to us?” Maks wondered. “We’re not responsible for other people’s decisions. I think I’ve learned that recently. That’s not the real world, and we are responsible for our own actions. I’m just afraid that everything we’ve done will be seen by everyone as a single mistake.”

That they will fall into old habits and become old people. It would seem like a perfect time to turn back and let the Darkness shine. A lot of the blame fell on her. If they don’t get back into reality and stop blaming others for their own mistakes, they won’t be able to stop and heal. “That’s all I’ve got, really.”

“Want me to send it?” Bun asked after she went silent for a while.

“Yeah.”

“Done.”

“Bun?”

“What is it?”

“When the time comes for us to get near a Pyramid again, you’re not coming with me.” She persisted before he could protest: “You’re not going through that again.”

“I want to be by your side.”

“It’s not worth risking losing you. The small things.” Maks had to let him know, had to make sure with all her might that it’ll get through to him. “Don’t worry about it, little guy. I can protect you for a while. You’ve taken care—”

A stray solar grenade whooshed past her camp, barely missing her and all of her scattered supplies when it exploded on impact. Followed by somewhat panicked shouting and a string of apologies in the distance.

“What the—” Maks jumped up. Crow was frozen, with his arms by his ears, looking like he was bracing for a counter attack or an earful. “I have normal food, if you two are done trying to destroy it!” Her tone was filled with affection, regardless of her words.

“Sorry!” Glint apologized again when they were close. He examined her backpack as Crow sat down next to her. “What have you got here?”

“I let it slip to a kind old lady that there’s hardly any food on the Shore. Next thing I know, she has something prepared for me.” Maks let Crow help himself. He seemed to be in high spirits. “I also stole some beer.”

“Tell the truth, Guardian.” Her Ghost challenged her.

“I stole the beer first, and she thought it was a bad diet.”

“Heh, glad my grenade missed it.” Crow joked. “Osiris spoke of a similar trick I’ve seen you do, unending grenades. Can’t get a grasp on it.”

_Uh-oh._

“You know, I’m not sure if I want to teach you that, out of principle.” Maks lit up the place with her laugh. “Maybe tomorrow. I’m not that good at it, though.”

Crow, having his hands full with cellophane wrapped buns, shook his head until the hood fell off. He noticed that look in her eyes again, one he didn’t understand. He figured nothing would go wrong if he finally playfully asked her about it.

“I—”

“She thinks you’re pretty, Crow.” Glint found himself with no mercy, almost reveling in the chaos as both Guardians got slightly flustered for different reasons, one more than the other. “She likes looking at you.”

“Alright, you…!” He moved the Ghost to the side with the back of his hand to mitigate the situation, and cleared his throat. The bet between the Ghosts was starting to be annoying.

Her own mind was anchored on something else. Ikora reaching out to her worried her more than anything. She was so used to letting her little world spin out of control, it took its time to register.

A sense of dread. The feeling that you won’t be able to go on or you won’t be able to go anywhere else. _What if I make it? What if I make it right? If I do, everything is okay. But nothing is right. This is a bad place._

She had to say something.

“Be careful with Osiris, by the way.” Maks handed him a beer bottle, swiftly changing the topic. “You’re eager to learn, don’t let that get you into something dangerous. Hive are not to be trifled with, and lines in the sand aren’t really a thing for him. It’s a bad mixture.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He flashed a smirk. But as he said that, the harsh change in her expression made it dawn on him what _exactly_ was in her eyes every time she saw him without that damn tattered hood. Little bits of everything provided a clear enough picture.

She ruffled her hair in frustration as she looked away. There was no strength found in her to fight the agony.

Chasing after a sense of _normal_ was her most ambitious task so far. She didn’t know why she chased it in the first place, she guessed it were to bridge a gap of disconnect. Maks unholstered the Ace, and held it in both of her hands, unmoving. At one point she had the option to leave, task one of her associates with it, and disengage. Traveler only knows why she stayed. Crow was more than capable of dealing with this threat.

“I meant it. When I said that I don’t _ever_ want to know the man I was before.” The beer bottle swayed between his fingers as he spoke softly, yet filled with conviction.

She spun the Ace on one of her fingers until she was holding it by the barrel, rested her forehead on the handle, and closed her eyes tightly.

Crow could figure it out himself, but he had a feeling that the horrible act of taking someone’s life was a small part of the list of crimes. It felt like the worst, seeing the anguish on her face. And in all of these instances there had been no trace of a warning sign that made sense. 

There was just something that kept going, and she was sick of this. 

He didn’t need to be explicitly told the whole story. He didn’t claim to know her reasons for not telling him, maybe she didn’t want to put the weight of guilt on him. It wouldn’t be beyond reason to assume that Spider threatened her, or worse.

Maks wasn’t surprised, she was _expecting_ this moment. She told Osiris that much, that he’d be able to put the pieces together no matter what steps they took. Intelligence doesn’t die, and she had no intent to treat him like a lost child.

The cold gun in her shaking hands was a reminder that _history_ could not be erased. They couldn’t slice it out of existence. All she’d find at the Hangar were she to visit it now is Colonel and his maps that no one has touched since he died. They couldn’t have diverging timelines overlapping.

The Traveler couldn’t understand that.

Or maybe it did.

She knew better than to make wishes on the Shore. She still wished it would stop. Someone on a leash held by someone with a flawed understanding of complexities of people. She didn’t want to get through this one. Not again. Not anytime soon. Her thoughts raced as she thought that. 

“ _You_ don’t need to apologize.” Maks muttered, containing her heavy breathing and staring at a nondescript spot on the ground with her eyes aching from not knowing what to focus on. “I really don’t care about who or what led to that horrible day. I want the Cryptoliths gone, and I want to _go_. I want you to have a new life.”

“You still see _him_ in me.” Crow shivered.

She could tell he was going to ask her that.

It was hard to keep denying it. It messed with her head. There were moments when nothing about him reminded her of Uldren, but the smallest resemblances disoriented her the most. This disorientation playing into a weakness Hive Gods sought to exploit.

It clearly worked once.

“A gunshot, a fire fizzling out. Cayde’s life is gone, and all there is left is your smiling blue face as the doors shut.” Maks lowered the gun, and put it back in its holster. “I had the same nightmare for _months_ , scraped into my brain. I'm afraid of falling asleep because of it. It will take a moment, yes.”

It was a reminder that she couldn’t go back, didn’t, couldn’t. The only reason she had kept this gun was for this one specific reason. Because she needed to keep his Light alive.

You must not allow any distraction to stand in the way of a solution. You need to not only be able to deal with the bad, but also know how to deal with the good, Osiris would probably tell her.

Maks had enough. She opened her own bottle with a knife, quite sloppily due to her trembling hands. “How about we get drunk and forget our problems and our burdens? That seems easy. Maybe focus on the easy. This is a never-ending nightmare.”

Crow grabbed her arm which had the bottle with his hand before the bottle reached her lips. He didn’t want to be an irresponsible friend. He couldn’t let her. Not when she was in that much pain and he had no way to help her.

“What would…” He hesitated. “…your friend say?”

Maks narrowly avoided crushing the neck of the bottle, finding control of her hand just in time. There was a moment of silent concentration when she held his eyes with her own, and said:

“Cayde wasn’t perfect, in none of his six lives. He’d come back and kick my ass if I’d claim that he was. At times, he was a bastard. If he were here, he’d _understand_ _you_. He’d also tell us both to put our past lives behind us. He’d tell you to always be better, as a person. To do better. To help others when you can.” Maks needed the reminder more than Crow. “Find a path to your best self and walk it, not anyone else’s. _That_ was my point.”

And yet, maybe the pain we are forced to endure is as precious as the gift that makes it worth living.

You need to get out of here and move on. Don’t try to be something you’re not. Take your next step to that place, where you feel at ease and at peace. That’s the place she wanted him to be.

“I think I can do that.” The man said, in his _own_ voice, quietly, quietly, with a certain measure of conviction.Crow was now sticking out his bottle in her direction. “For… Cayde.”

Crow was scared of saying the name, but the fear faded when softness returned to her face. It was hard to look at her pained face, but there was a warmth that made him feel like something was there. Something was alive inside her. 

They clinked the bottles together.

“For Cayde.”


	22. Loop and Loop and Loop and Loop.

“Crow, are you holding up okay?”

The two moved quietly, trying to not wake Maks.

“I think so.” Crow’s answer didn’t sound convincing.

“Last night was a lot to take in…” The fact that Glint was still alive was all the proof he needed that the Spider wasn’t spying on them. He knew that his Guardian didn’t want to hear more about it, so he didn’t bother to even ask.

Maks looked peaceful for once. Curled into a ball, using her thin cape as a blanket. No one knew that she was capable of sleeping until then. Last night removed a huge weight off her shoulders. But it would take more to get up after her nap. It would take more for her to catch up on her thoughts. She had been thinking about these questions for a long time now, but nothing could change them.

She couldn’t keep the turmoil inside any more, and what friend would he be if he didn’t let her tell him about it.

“I met Cayde once when I was looking for you. It was during The Dawning in the City many years ago.” Glint began. “There was this young girl, with blonde hair. She looked terrified and alone. Cayde noticed, and brought her up to the Tower to meet the other Guardians. Her eyes _swelled_ with the feeling of… _home_.” He’ll never forget it. He’s never seen anything like that since. Cayde had a way with people.

Crow sighed shakily, crossing his arms.

“Don’t blame yourself.” Glint added.

“I hate that I remind her of it. That I remind anyone of it.”

“I don’t think you do, vast majority of the time. Based on what I’ve seen.” He flied in front of Crow’s face. “I think she likes you as _you_. As _Crow_. Not who you were before.” Glint saw that little glare. “You know what I mean! You have a friend!”

Crow appreciated the sentiment more than he could put into words, but…

“How did the bet even start?”

“Ghosts get… _very_ bored. Especially when their Guardians are competent.”

A noise came from below, as she mumbled something and pulled the cape over her eyes, leaving only red hair sticking out. Her Ghost was silently transmatting her supplies back to her ship, while putting a plan together in his head.

Crow knelt down, put a hand on her shoulder, and carefully shook her. It was time to go. They could sleep once all of this was done.

“Come on. Wrathborn call.”

She grunted back, filled with unrestrained petulance. She wanted to keep sleeping.

“I’ve got a better idea.” Bun jumped in. “Let me handle this.”

After looking at each other for a moment, both Crow and his Ghost took a couple steps back, just by instinct. They weren’t sure _why_ , but they didn’t fight the urge.

The tiny Ghost placed itself right next to where her ear should be.

Then…

A deep voice suddenly started shouting from him:

“ ** _WHAT DO YOU THINK ‘HEAVY AMMO AVAILABLE’ MEANS, GUARDIAN?!_** _”_

* * *

Both of them sat there as if they were two mourners in the middle of a prayer. They did not move for a long time. Their eyes remained fixed, not looking up, not looking down. All they could do was remain frozen.

They wanted to move and they wanted to speak but they were frozen in an immovable, unmoving place.

Jolyon let out a strange breath, then he spoke:

“It’s still him, at the core. The Uldren I knew, not the man who died two years ago.” Jolyon’s been watching them when he got the chance, just to make sure. To break out of the thought that it was a prank, and that she was cruel. He got more than what he bargained for. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to face him. Not yet, if ever. Him not recognizing me once was enough. He was just too much. Enough to kill me.”

“I understand.” Maks was staring solemnly straight down at the counter. There were no words of advice at all. There was nothing in the room but smoke and smell of alcohol. She didn’t know what else to do now, other than sit back and wait.

Cayde was avenged, and Uldren died.

That could _easily_ have been the end of the story.

“Are there any Guardians who have…” He stopped when he realized that he knew the answer. There were no rules about who would or wouldn’t go to the other side, and the decision had to be made one way or the other, even if it might come down to his own life.

“Remembered?”

“Yeah.”

“Not as far as I know. There have been some who have recovered their pasts, found their families, but memories won’t return.” Maks told him. “There are no definite answers to this. It’s as though the soul of your past still lives somewhere else. It’s the nature of _death_ , after all.”

“Maybe I’ll be forced to face him again, and when it does happen he’ll be mad and hurt.” A sharp cry of anger escaped his throat. “How could I forget it? How can I forget the way I love him so much? I can’t. _Not yet_.”

The wound was not healing. It didn’t mean _he_ could still be inside. The wound wasn’t healing. He couldn’t imagine how it could be now. His face was twisted and confused. His head was throbbing. As his hands began gripping his chest, he felt his vision become darker, brighter and dimmer.

And then it stopped.

Came in waves, just like the Curse.

“Did you attend his funeral?” She asked once he started breathing normally.

“Petra asked, but I couldn’t. I tried to go to see him, but never could. I… did make sure that he’d be laid to rest, and not be thrown out like many others undoubtedly wanted.” Jolyon clenched his jaw, and slammed the glass down on the counter. “I know that neither of you two had a choice in this, but _please_ let me be pissed off.”

Maks was relieved that she was wrong earlier. That it were not just an emotionless ceremony, as per Awoken standards.

“You don’t need my permission.” The woman’s voice cracked slightly, and the air grew damp and heavy. “I… I’m so sorry.”

Guardians will never have their own memories to share; they will be lost forever. You can see it, but you cannot remember it. You cannot escape it. If you try to, you will be lost. Memory is a human desire to seek a way of experiencing your past, it is not a compulsion. You cannot keep it in your memory as a way to escape your past, nor can you escape its consequences as well. It is part of you.

Maybe some day you’ll be able to see it in those dreams you’ve had, the feeling you’ve had of watching your dead friends being watched.

You can’t just leave this place, though. There is no way to stop being a Guardian and return to your life before. There’s no way to come back. There’s no guarantee there isn’t a soul in there, somewhere deeper, and even now, you know there isn’t, there isn’t a soul…

You still don’t know. No one else knows.

It’s a pretty hard ask, honestly. She felt sick in this state. She was not sure what to say, what to ask, what to do.

“How do you view ‘Vas?” Jolyon asked. He was searching for answers at every corner. “Who you were before?”

“I grieve her.” Maks took a deep breath. “To die all alone, away from home. No funeral, just left to rot next to a sea of cars belonging to people who just wanted to escape. That’s a terrible fate. No one deserved that.” She stated rather flatly. This ‘Vas has been dead for over a hundred years now. Enough for even the closest to her to have accepted it. It didn’t matter. Perhaps somewhere her mother was still waiting for her, but it wouldn’t be fair for _Maksim_ to visit her.

She really didn’t want to leave him there, but she had to go.

The Hive will never wait for her. Osiris will find a way to get Sagira back and burn the Hunter alive if she keeps getting distracted. Xivu Arath was strengthening her army, and there will be no room for anything outside of the war for the next week.

“Thanks.” Jolyon stopped her, with barely enough energy left to get the words out. “Maksim…”

“For what?”

“For giving Crow a chance. You were the last person I ever expected to be kind to him.”


	23. Venom.

How many Wrathborn were they up to now?

In order to weaken them, she had to become like them. Feel their wrath. The only thing she had to do was to use all her Light and her senses to destroy them. Even though she herself had no ability to resist the whispers, her spirit had a strong sense of pride and determination to get through whatever obstacle stood in her way. Moreover, her spirit was in the midst of a great desire to surpass the Hive. At that time, even though she was unable to find any advantage to overcome, she had a strong desire for the goal. She wanted to know how much better the others could be. Of course, she didn't necessarily have to become better. If she would only learn, then she could become a better Guardian.

Even when the enemy was not right next to them, the power of the beast was undeniable.

Crow was taking every Eliksni Wrathborn defeat to heart. After the war, the Eliksni were scattered across the world like ghosts to their own destruction. Bodies piled up everywhere they had never been. There was no one to mourn their departure. No one knew how they could live in peace again.

Before Xivu Arath drowned the minds of the Eliksni in chaos, they were just lost. They were all lost. The same way the two Guardians were lost now.

The more the Wrathborn in the Shore grew, the less Crow could bear it. Each day felt like it would swallow him whole. His hands clenched into a fist.

When they came to their senses at the end of the day, they came to reality. As if they had moved from the future to the past to the past, it was as though the sun had gone out, and all their minds, their feelings, their beliefs and beliefs, had been returned to the original place of their origin. To all that were present, the sun was gone and they were back where they came from.

The fire flickered in front of them, and they couldn’t say a thing. There was a voice behind the rocks that had no name, but the voice was deep, almost metallic.

They had everything they needed to be confident that they could turn the tide of the battle.

“Please. Don’t make me go around killing them all.” Maks finally opened her mouth and whispered so softly Crow didn’t even hear. She had no choice but to fight, for the only other thing she could think of is to walk in the direction of the sea and see everything in white that surrounds her. She had pushed away everyone who could jump in and let her sleep for a while.

All they had to do was find the way out. They had no need to mourn their death because there was nothing left to mourn.

But that should be enough to show them that no matter what happens, they weren’t alone. And no matter what happens, they weren’t alone _anymore_. The gift of companionship is never truly free, nor ever the price we pay for giving away our precious life. So why do we feel so guilty for giving away what could be our very lives?

Someone told her once that the pain that keeps a person going is as necessary as the gifts that make it worthwhile.

Her hand kept moving, always reaching for the Ace. She wanted to come to him with this idea that something wrong was happening. Something big going on inside of her, this thing that’s causing her to get angry, and to feel like someone’s always against her.

Osiris had made a comment that Crow’s compassion was turning into anger. He could tell with every step forward he was taking that his anger was getting the better of him. He had fought to save their lives. Crow hoped that they would sleep well.

The walls were closing, and the cavern was coming into sight. The only thing they could hear was a faint sound. A strange noise that they couldn’t make out. And the shadows in the cave vanished into darkness.

Crow ran a hand through his hair, trying to contain it, as if trying to find one thing he had control over right then. He found that it was all becoming a nuisance, especially when he did maintenance work on the lure. Spider didn’t exactly offer him scissors, but using a knife to cut it off has become tempting.

“Well, to be fair. Glint was right the other day.” Maks stopped looking at his struggle, and he looked confused for a second. Glint is right about a lot of things. “You _are_ very pretty.”

It always helped to lift some of the doom and gloom of it all. She always did.

“Do you think that it will give me an advantage when we visit the City?”

“Definitely!”

The fringe fell in front of his eyes again when he laughed, much to his annoyance. The strands of white hair made him feel a lot older than he was. It was hard for him to find someone to tell him what to do. In his mind, he was just a child with too many things to decide and too many fears to fix. What would he do? Where would he go?

“Guardian. Rosaline Rilla is waiting for you.” Bun informed her.

“Where?”

The old ship broke into orbit, and a bulky Titan soon followed. She was carrying a small box. Maks didn’t like how they left things off last time. She thought she could find the words when she got to the Titan, but found _nothing_.

On approach, Rosaline held up a finger, to stop Maks from saying anything. She started speaking, as if rehearsed:

“I still hate you for disappearing, but I think the two of you will be able to go on easy. Just don’t give up for the time being. This was what I was hoping for. I hope that you’ll understand as I’m saying this.” Rosaline handed the small box to the Hunter. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. There were some feelings that I should have said off but I thought my feelings were going to come out in the end, so I didn’t.”

Maks was shocked by her statement. A gift? That seemed ridiculous. She did not deserve it. She took it from the other Guardian’s hand either way.

The Titan continued as Maks didn’t say anything, all she did was stare at the box. “This, the Wrathborn, isn’t even your fault. Don’t try to blame yourself for what happened to Cayde, or see the people who want to be around you as an insult, you can’t change everything. You haven’t been able to change anything at all since he died. You’ve been trying to try your best at fixing, but it hasn’t worked because of someone else’s actions.”

There wasn’t a peep of resentment or sadness or hurt about it. And it is precisely because the incident took place during a time of mourning that its impact was so intense, if not absolute, that it should be honored and appreciated, but should not be erased from history.

“How different would our world be if we never would have decided to kill Crota?”

Wasn’t this all just a cascade of revenge? We don’t have much time left to try to find the answers. We all feel that the time is ripe and there’s something to be done. We’re all fighting for our lives and our future and we’re all trying to make sense of this dark and disturbing information that has been revealed.

“ _All_ of us would be dead years before the Pyramids. Call me smug, but I think we bought a lot of people many years of life.” Rosaline was almost dumbfounded by the question. “What the _hell_ are you talking about?”

When they arrived, they found that they had a new beginning, a new land, a new destiny. They were free, not to be alone. There was hope. It was easy to come to this new place, to trust the land for all it was worth.

But, Maks couldn’t say that she has thought about any of it in that way. Until now.

“Thanks, Rosalie.” She clutched the box tighter. “You’re going back to Europa?” The Hunter found herself feeling sad, surprising even herself. Missing friends who were still breathing was a new thing.

“I’m staying here. The Bray sisters are why immortality is a bad idea, and they just keep asking for you.” Rosaline looked around the place. It was a putrid and vile land, but she could never grimace at it. Just a shocking and a hideous thing. She absolutely loved it. “Dragging Veronica along to this place too. Well, it is against her will – so I’m essentially kidnapping her.”

“Getting the band back together?” Maks won’t say it out loud, but she missed them terribly. It will take time to undo the hurt, or acknowledge it properly, both of them knew it. Right now there was a fight to focus on.

“Yep. Tell Xivu Arath and her sister that they need to Memento Mori.” She cringed at what she was saying.

Either way, Rosaline gave a quick wave to Crow somewhere behind Maks before disappearing.

It still felt unreal.

She never expected any of them to welcome her back after two years.

“Well. We’ve got friends joining us soon.” She told Crow as she sat down next to him. “Great Guardians. You will have to remain hidden, though. They’ll help with the hunts.”

“You want to keep me all to yourself? I don’t blame you.” He found himself having a small affection for her, even if it didn’t mean anything. What’s more, he was completely at ease with his true feelings.

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Stop enabling our Ghosts!”

Maybe it was just an affection for her ability to make him briefly forget about the horrors around him for a minute. In that moment he felt the warmth of someone who actually cared about him. He was still a little shy about her, to be sure, but he also still took his duties seriously.

Maks turned her attention to the small box, and carefully opened it. Inside were a silver bracelet, shaped like a snake. She put it on excitedly, trying to integrate it into her armor.

“Snakes, huh…” Crow observed, not having the opportunity to ask her about that until now. Snakes and crows were notorious for being excellent companions…

“I was told that in some places, grass snakes are viewed as protectors.” Maks found a place on her arm for it, where it wouldn’t budge during fights. “… Immortal guardians of people’s homes, who had the ability to protect the inhabitants from disease…”

“Oh! That’s a relief.”

With a giggle, Maks leaned in against him, putting her hands on his shoulder, and laid her big yellow eyes on his: “Worried about venom, _bird boy_?”

It was all harmless.

“Not at all.” Crow smiled, smugly. “I think we both know who’d win in a fight.”

“ _Uh-huh_.”


	24. Secrets.

It was a peaceful day on the Tangled Shore. Maks stood right outside of the Spider’s Den, waiting on Crow to finish some tasks. She put herself in the middle of a correspondence between her and the Vanguard while she waited; things were at an unsettling calm in the Tower it seemed. Whispers about Osiris working for Zavala–

“Maksiiiiiim!”

She looked up just in time to see a Warlock running towards her at full speed. Veronica’s delighted laughter, arms wrapping around the Hunter from the side, followed by a kiss on the cheek.

“Alright…” Maksim tried her hardest to act unruffled, while simultaneously not at all pulling away from the Warlock.

“Missed you!” Veronica saw through it, not letting her go. The smile Maks gave out was small, as if it was trying to disguise some fact.

“Sure.”

Maks was always so charming when she did that. There was a tinge of darkness in those glowing eyes. It was so bright, in a way. Veronica knew that the only thing the Hunter had in her life was darkness, and knew that she would be loved if she got out of there.

“You okay?”

“Huh?”

“Hey.” Veronica welcomed the Hunter to reality again, turning Maks' face to her with her hand. There was a brief moment where she was just… _gone_. “Just wanted to know if you’re all right.”

“Yeah, yeah, just… constant exposure to Hive magic to defeat the Hive has been not enjoyable.” Maks sighed, relaxing in the hold. “Glad you’re here.” It took an enormous effort to get those words out, let alone her own.

“Oh, don’t panic. Don’t panic. Be calm. We’re in a Hive war zone again, but we’re here again!”

Crackles of a transmat soared in the air, grabbing their attention.

“Maks! I hope you’ve got the lure r—” Crow stopped talking, mid transmat, as his eyes adjusted to it. “… ready. The Spider wants… _Oh_.” He whispered in a low, barely audible whisper, the words falling out with the force of a jet engine.

Glint looked at the two women, and then at Crow, and then at the Cryptolith with hopes that it will start screaming. 

Maks’ fireteams have defused Taken bombs. This was no different.

“I know you! My Ghost recognized you.” Veronica gasped, reluctantly letting go of Maks.

“You’ve got the wrong person.” It’s been some time since he encountered a Guardian who recognized him. The last month has given him a false sense of security.

“Not you!” She pointed at his purple companion. He wasn’t that snazzy when she met him, but a Ghost’s spirit and mythos remained the same. “Pulled Pork, right?”

“I go by Glint now!” The Ghost spun around happily. “I think I remember you. Venus three years ago, right? You were looting the archives of the Ishtar Academy.”

“Yes! You finally found a Guardian!” Veronica giggled behind her hands on her mouth. “Is he everything you hoped he would be?”

Everyone loved Pulled Pork, or Glint as he’s known by now. Earnest and kind, he had so much energy, you could hear it in his voice. So gentle and patient while searching for a Guardian to call his own. And so strong, for so many of the worlds he visited that he had to be careful when he did.

“We haven’t been without difficulties, but yes!” Glint nodded with his shell. “Veronica, this is Crow.”

The Lightbearer looked at Maks. All she did was shrug, telling him that she had no idea what was going on either. Veronica was human, wearing robes that were partially corroded by Vex fluids. She looked a bit confused, but there was nothing in her brown eyes that told him that she recognized the man he was before in any shape or form.

“Good to meet you, Crow.” She wasn’t going to force him to talk about himself. Would be rude. “Let me know where we can begin.”

That he could do.

“Upon Mars being Taken by the Darkness, Xivu Arath and her High Celebrant planted the Cryptoliths all across the Tangled Shore to corrupt herself an army of Eliksni, it then spread into the Dreaming City targeting the Hive…”

Veronica proved herself to be rather knowledgeable, having a similar air around her that Osiris had. Which was one of silently telling Crow that he shouldn’t ask questions he couldn’t handle the answers to. And as with a lot of Warlocks, she had a great range of opinions about the methods of Osiris. She told stories without going into too much detail, about how the squad of the three Guardians have been on an adventure to find out everything the Hive had to offer. Anecdotes about a massive Hive Knight in a dark cell, to a Wizard whose screams they still heard in the night.

Ultimately, the conclusion reached was that this was a new strategy of the Hive but with tools they’ve used before. Veronica excused herself to grab some books from her ship. Ones that she hasn’t returned to the Tower for a year or two, or half a decade.

It was okay to steal if the fate of the world was on the line.

Since befriending Maks, the world was constantly on the line of ending.

“The extra hands came just in time. Spider’s getting impatient.” Crow struggled not to pace back and forth once they were alone. She hasn’t seen him this frenetic. He settled for leaning against the wall next to her, fighting a war to keep his feet planted. “A horde of Wrathborn descended on a docked Ketch and slaughtered the crew.”

“Can’t see him be concerned about the loss of life.” She crossed her arms. She had been right at the very center of this, had been on the front-lines, and yet… her own voice seemed so far removed from reality that it was hard to believe it even existed. “I’ll compensate in Glimmer to buy us time. I hate doing it, but we need time.”

Crow had a hard time believing it would ever be enough. He couldn’t figure out why he still felt a sense of astonishment every single time their Baron prioritized his material benefit over lives. He was sure that Maks had stories of her own.

“He ever-so-politely reminded me about the explosives he planted in Glint.” Crow took a deep breath and gave her a sharp look. “If we don’t find the High Celebrant soon…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, but he knew he didn’t have to. They had to work harder, lose sleep if they had to. All thoughts of any kind turned to fear. They only had one lure for the strongest Wrathborn, and he couldn’t find another artifact in Spider’s storage. Maybe if he just found a bit more Soulfire, something could be scrapped together.

“It’s Rosaline’s shift today. I and Veronica will be hunting for loose Wrathborn, protecting Spider’s associates.” Maks laid out the plan. “We’ll alternate every day to keep the risk of corruption to a minimum. Xivu Arath won’t get her war of attrition of attrition for us, or get _me_ for that matter.”

“They say that there is a minimal risk of Guardians succumbing to this corruption.” Crow sounded in denial over the situation. He watched her collapse just a couple of days ago. How her hands tightened around her knees, and she knew she was on the edge of collapse, and every thought that came to mind was a moment away from something worse than death.

“Precautions and safeguards have to be implemented, fought enough Hive to know that.” Maks pushed on, trying to keep her voice level, but her voice was still raspy and weak. At this point, she felt nervous and scared and ready to rather die than face her theory being true. Veronica was on approach again, with books in her hands.

“ _Precautions_?” Crow didn’t want to recognize the implication of her words. He wouldn’t be able to do it, he didn't want to fight her just to practice for the day either. The nightmares did not look like they were going to end soon. The more she faced, the more she realized she would have to take this one step closer to ensuring the end. 

She had to do something.

“Got them.” Veronica interrupted, handing Crow the pile of books without waiting. “Last one is a copy of personal accounts, including most comprehensive study of Oryx’s old Dreadnought.” The Warlock watched Crow nod in appreciation, despite the grim look in his eyes.

She figured that she missed a _conversation_. Veronica was suddenly aware that she was not alone in her discomfort about the perversions of Xivu Arath, but that she could easily manage it, and maybe she was just taking too long.

“We should get going.” Maks said with a degree of authority as she pulled out the Ace, and Veronica happily grabbed her other hand to drag her off to the nearest sound of the Wrathborn.

* * *

“Crow.” Glint gently said, wiggling out of the burrow in Crow’s hood. “I know that look…”

The Lightbearer was in the middle of three tasks. Overseeing the Hunts, examining the writings and images in Veronica’s book, and then using those two tasks as a weapon to push back the anxiety spiralling out of his control. They’ve come too far for him to allow all of this to start draining his life-force from every inch of his body, leaving him in a coma. 

They had help now. They’ll be fine. Glint will survive.

“I’m alright.”

Observing the Wrathborn made him believe that he was familiar with the full spectrum of how rancid the Hive could be. And Maks called the Vex ‘creative’. It took only a few pages of the journal to make him realize how wrong he was. It was a terrifying thing, and he did not think the thing could be stopped for long.

“You’re not.”

It’s not your fault you can’t stay out of the sunlight. It’s not your fault you can’t sleep during the day. It’s not your fault you can’t take a walk at night. He swallowed hard, and turned the page. All three Guardians had contributed to the long write-up. There was a picture of a fractured shape resembling a crystal, being embraced by green flames of the Hive in a dark cavern. Underneath was a scribble by Maks, one that she attempted to erase:

_Crota’s soul. The truth is that the soul is just a physical structure. It’s an animal that goes through changes in shape and size and structure at each pass. When you die, the changes have little to do with your soul. Most people understand what death is, but they believe that it’s an event in the body that affects your physical body. This is not so at all. It’s an event in the whole of your being that affects your mind and emotions_ _._

_I don’t feel like going through that process myself, and I don’t know what the results would be. To know a lot about something at one time would be like being part of a story, not_ _history._

Crow was about to read a detailed explanation as to what exactly the object was, but his vision of the book blurred when Glint came into sight.

“Talk to me.” He tried again. “ _Please_. I’ll help you.”

Crow relented.

“I-I…” The young Lightbearer didn’t want to realize the idea. His mind went blank. What the hell was going on? What was happening to them? “On top of Spider threatening you, I don’t think I could bring myself to kill her.” He strained out the whisper, realizing that he was gripping the edge of the workbench.

No matter what he was feeling towards her, she always responded in a way that made him happy. She made him feel accepted. 

He wasn’t ready for these kinds of choices. Savek still haunted him. He thought he was saving an idea, not a project. He hoped for immediate results, as if that was the end of the road. He had never thought of this. He had never looked into _that_ future. But now, with every passing day he was getting lost. He looked ahead and it was all a big lie. For an entire day he was seeing the same situation over and over again, his head never leaving the place.

“I don’t think she was asking that of you.” Glint said, finding the light in all things. “She’s taking precautions to prevent it.”

While Glint had a point, Crow had a feeling that Maks never _asked_ for the help. If Rosaline hadn’t stepped in, the Hunter wouldn’t be suddenly responsible about the potential threat of Xivu Arath taking the Hunter for herself.

There was a reason Osiris trusted her. It was very easy to trust a reflection of oneself. But it was too easy to trust somebody else’s reflection of oneself. Maybe that’s why it took Osiris many years to understand what was right and wrong.

And yet at the same time, sometimes you can always see you are not the person you want to be. If not, it would make you forget who you are. It’s not the same without it. Crow wanted to help others.

“You should be telling _her_ this.” Glint spoke with a low voice as he moved away.

Crow grunted, then resumed reading. Glint’s eye wouldn’t stop boring into him.

“I wouldn’t be sure how to say it without coming off like…” He shook his head, strands of grey hair falling in front of his eye again. They couldn't get sidetracked, he had to push it aside. Had to work harder to avoid the dark future where he loses them both. “Let’s move on. This crystal…”

* * *

“So, Maksy!” Veronica spun on her heel as they walked in their hunt for Wrathborn, her robes filled with holes dancing in the caused wind. The joyful smile fell, replaced by a look of exhaustion and disappointment. “What the _hell?_ ”

“Yep.” Maks braced for the blow. Veronica was always a leagues better actor than Maks could dream of. The Warlock was a monster of a person who knew her craft, while Maks was the kind of person who knew she’d never understand nor accept her role in the world.

One was the kind of person who liked and believed that she could do whatever she set her mind to, never knowing her place in it and how her choices affected people in it.

“I thought that it was some kind of new joke between Guardians that I didn’t get. You know how Guardians get with idioms. ' _The Prince Is Back_ ' sounded like something else.” She was disappointed in her wishful thinking. “Took me a while to recognize him.”

“What gave it away?” She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to make it out of this situation without the whole world just falling out of her life.

“Uldren was a being where great intelligence and a bad haircut chose to conglomerate somehow.” Veronica felt very sorry for the fact that Crow had to pay for it all.

“And a series of cruel crimes longer than Cayde’s list of debts. Both aimed at him, and by his hands.” Maks pointed out. “That should tell you a lot.”

The Light did not have the power to destroy them now, but it did have the power to open new doors for people. It opened doors for many of the same people that it destroyed prior. Now it can only shape them, make them grow stronger and stronger.

Maks could only imagine. She was supposed to be one of the most powerful Guardians, but she felt like she was a bit of a coward. A naïve kid, one who couldn’t fight without getting pushed and pushed and pushed towards a future she didn’t want.

She was terrified of the universe because she was the only one who had ever gotten this far. If Xivu Arath would succeed, she would be given the power to turn the galaxy into a black hole. She couldn’t imagine a normal life. Why couldn’t she dream? Just how could she dream?

Veronica giggled, flipping between eccentric and taking the world seriously. “Crow was jealous of us.”

“No! No, he wasn’t.” Maks sighed heavily, then rolled her eyes. This is going to be an intolerable couple of weeks. “Spider has a bomb in his Ghost, and likes to remind him when the Wrathborn destroy a powerful Glimmer vein. He was shaken up.”

The Warlock went from great child-like amusement to being gut-wrenchingly revolted, but it was about what she anticipated.

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘ _oh’._ ” Maks turned her eyes to a few loose Fallen Wrathborn. Weaker type, but in groups they could cause collateral damage. “Spider’s very good at business, so who cares about him being an immoral piece of shit.”

The wind blew away any trace of blood on the Shore, even her lips were blue. The sun was not strong enough to put any heat on her face, but it could have done much better.

Not that Veronica had been particularly patient with her friend up until now. Maks had given their entourage enough bad days and then gone on to a more pleasant world for a few weeks.

And here we are again, all three of them, with only an empty shell of a smile, to get used to it.

“How is he handling Fikrul?” Veronica continued to make conversation as they tracked their prey.

“I don’t know if they’ve met yet. He is however under the belief that the Scorn fear him due to the Spider’s sigil.” She matched the Warlock’s confused face. “That they respect his authority over the Shore.”

Veronica almost dropped her auto rifle. 

She looked horrified.

Maks liked to dig holes, and there has been a lot she’s been holding in: “And he sees the Spider as a Baron.”

“Ohhh…” The sound resembled an unoiled door hinge being forced to move, and then slowly morphed into Devrim’s old teakettle. “No! He has to be lying at that point!”

Although, her overall reaction resembled more of a woman gossiping on a balcony who was told a rumor about a neighbor being in a bawdy relationship with a Guardian.

They closed into the nest of the Wrathborn. The new information made the sight pleasant for the Warlock.

There was always more.

With Maks, rest assured, there was _always_ more.

All Veronica had to do was ask. The curiosity of a Warlock…

“Fine. Just tell me.”

“He knows that his past life killed Cayde, and he’s heard some stories about the bastard.” Maks told her. “Doesn’t know _how_. Just that he did it.”

It wasn’t… that bad. Not the worst.

They’ve killed Oryx together, so the ceiling was quite _high_.

“Maks, I know that you’re an awful liar.” Veronica whispered as they were getting ready for the assault. “ _How_ did that conversation begin?”

There was no way to explain it without putting her own foot in a very visible bear trap.

“I was sad, we had beer, we had a campfire, we were talking.” In the corner of her eye, she saw the other woman purse her lips to vigorously fight laughter, most heated battles of the Crucible paled in comparison. “I hate you, Veronica.”

“There are better things do to when you are sad, you have beer, and you have a campfire, and you have a handsome guy fawning over you.” The escaping yelp of words and laughter almost made the Wrathborn scatter. “Yet you chose to talk about your murdered best friend. I can’t imagine someone as mad as you doing anything else.”

“… No.” Maks muttered, ready to unleash her Light.


	25. FatherFatherFather.

“I might have no need of Crow at this rate. You and your posse are a trio of efficient killers.” The Spider wheezed out the instant he saw her.

“Remember that when we’re negotiating payment.” Bun shot back at the kingpin, and Maks immediately grabbed the feisty Ghost to keep him out of the Eliksni’s reach. He got the point.

“Does it matter where the money comes from as long as you get paid?” Maks answered Spider’s unasked question.

“I like to invest in the future.” The Spider growled. “There is no Glimmer in a corrupted Shore, and my Little Bird is whatever I want him to be. I know that you like to play dumb, and it’s very useful when you’re asking questions.” His voice sounded even angrier as he leaned back.

They were over two months in now. She understood perfectly what he was saying. The trio of hers were just the guns, the brawn. She didn’t know why he directed his anger at her and Crow. Maks was only too well aware of her inability to help them track down the High Celebrant.

But, Maks would rather take the brunt of it over letting Glint explode. There was nothing he could really do to her. One war had already transpired on the shore. 

Then again, she doubted that as many people loved her as people loved Cayde.

“I’ll keep compensating you, rest of the developments are in the hands of Osiris.”

Knowing full well that Spider enjoyed having a Glimmer waterfall ran by _The Famous Guardian_ , Maks simply left for Crow’s hideaway. She startled the young Awoken a little when she dropped off the datapad used to gather recon data on his workshop, _far_ more aggressively than she intended. Maybe aggression was how she ended up in this position, and it was all a very much an afterthought to her.

“Hey, Guardian!” Glint chirped.

Maks let go of Bun so the two Ghosts could go and create their own conspiracies. Crow wanted to jokingly call her a ray of sunshine, but he was smarter than that. 

When she looked up, an idea formed in her mind.

To put a _curse_ on the Spider, she thought quietly.

“This Shore is nothing but a pile of garbage.” She huffed out and leaned on the workshop and crossed her arms, keeping her fingers away from the knife. The red box on the other side of the room was tempting her.

“I don’t know.” Crow drew out his words, a small smile on his face. “I have never really thought about it, actually. Can’t remember when I had the idea of a thing like that!”

“You are welcome to continue being charming as we scout today.” Maks tapped him on the shoulder, waiting for him to finish up work. “Could use the change.”

At least she still found him charming.

“They haven’t been annoying to me. Left me alone for the most part. I appreciate that.” Crow inspected his project; he hasn’t held the lure in his hands in days but it didn’t stop him from making accessories and modifications for it. “Do they pretend not to recognize me?”

“They’re not idiots.” The least complex explanation she could come up with was the only one she was willing to give him. “We’ve had a conversation about new Light rules.”

“And?” He trusted whoever she trusted, but only if rational thought would make nightmares go away.

“Someone _let_ us die in a wasteland somewhere. We didn’t have a single person who interfered.” A heavy sigh ran through her, that did not come from her lungs, but rather was instead carried through her mind. She found a strange sense of understanding on his face. “We died young, all three of us. Hell, maybe we’re disillusioned, with no knowledge of how to live life without Ghosts. But…”

She knew he could figure it out. Countless hours spent talking with Osiris helped, too.

“You view it as…” Crow thought for a moment. “A person truly dying only when an absence of kindness around them occurs?”

“Maybe.” Maks was like a shadow, a half-remembered image of whoever ‘Vas was, but nothing she knew. Nothing. That she knew, that was the thing. Nothing could bring _her_ back, what she could do, what she could know. As she looked away, he could see her struggling to keep up this conversation.

“The Wrathborn are stirring with something new.” Crow put away his tools. “I was just starting to believe that we were turning the tide. It’s like they’re adjusting to new variables, similarly to the Vex.”

“When a wrench is thrown, they tend to dodge.”

“Osiris put it in bigger terms, but I suppose that works too.” Crow said as he checked if his gun had ammo. “He mentioned you, how you’re a variable enemies of the Light don’t seem to understand, or predict.”

“I’m a chaotic wrench!” She said gleefully, making him laugh softly. “The Vanguard have saved a lot of energy by simply writing ‘ _Let Maksim and friends enact their own brand of chaos’_.”

“Heh. Osiris thinks it’s more than that.” He was ready to go. Soon there will be a day where they both leave the Spider’s safehouse and never look back. She still gave their ‘Baron’ a wave for courtesy. They exited just in time to see Veronica drive away after a green trail on her Sparrow in chase.

“What’s wrong?” Maks noticed the discomfort on his face.

It never got easier. He has been spending a lot of energy on trying to find a way to save them, and now he was paying the price with exhaustion. At this point, it _should_ be a drop in the bucket.

“I don’t want to let go of the thought that they _can_ be saved.” Crow has never heard her contribute to any time he and Osiris had this conversation. He just assumed that she had more secrets to keep, not that she was apathetic to what was happening around them. Almost like she was in the thick of it all, but trying to stay clear of it. Trying to figure out what was real and what was fantasy.

“Once the Hive have their claws on you, no spells can free you.” Her words didn’t help. He looked away from her, as if to hide the feelings from his eyes. “Focus on not letting go of the compassion you have for others.”

It came off… rehearsed.

“I’m not sure if Osiris berates me for that or…” He sighed, clutching his rifle again. Crow blamed it on getting just enough sleep to be able to speak coherently, but he was getting tired of the secrets. Veronica’s copy of the book was missing well over a dozen pages. He figured that someone had once tried doing a bit of good by helping to save a friend from an unspeakable calamity, one of which he was given a second chance to avoid.

They walked sat in silence for a while, not really wanting to give anybody any further information. Usually, the silence between them wasn’t awkward. She felt like she had to finish their conversation:

“I see that, even in these darkest moments, you are strong. I hope I don’t make you suffer, but I understand what you must be thinking.” Maks broke the silence once they left Thieves’ Landing. “I just need you to take my word for it until the death of the High Celebrant.”

“If I get back on my path again, I don’t want you to regret it, but I just want you to be honest with me.”

“And I will.” There was only comfort and honesty in the smirk of hers. “I’m tired of thinking about it, too.” She spoke to him calmly, her tone sounding somewhat apologetic.

“25.6 seconds.” Her Ghost called out. “Your record is still intact, Guardian.”

There was a friendly competition among the three Guardians, as to who could obliterate a powerful Wrathborn the quickest. The other two were slowly inching towards beating Maks, half a second a day. The Hunter was starting to get nervous.

“You keep motivating each other to become even better.” Crow pointed out. He’s heard the endless banter and a fair share of gloating between them on the comms. “Before you appeared, I thought that I’ve seen every single way the Light can be used. The control you three have of the Light is admirable. I hope I can someday master it as well.”

Maks scoffed, by instinct. “Says the _Gunslinger_.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Consider it… something to look forward to once you visit the Tower.” She walked backwards, facing him. “There is a man with one horn who has some thoughts.”

“How very Nightstalker of you to hide from the question.”

Maks put a hand on her heart, and feigned a hurt gasp. The look in her eyes soon turned to horror as she saw something behind him.

“Watch out!”

A group of large Scorn pushed Crow out of the way, and lunged straight at her to pin her down. They were snarling, drooling all over her, putrid flesh making her stomach turn. It drowned out everything else. Their breath was like a hundred tons of rotting meat. She’d barely managed to catch her breath when she heard the sound of blood splashing against a stone. Maks tried to crawl away, but they dragged her with them.

“Maks!” Crow cried out.

Aiming proved to be difficult as they trashed all over her on the ground, one of them clawing at her neck. Blood went in her hair when she managed a successful shot, she wasn’t sure who the blood belonged to. She grabbed the other one by the neck tightly, and gave it one good look before plunging a knife straight into its mouth. The beast’s face broke into multiple red blotches.

She couldn’t take a look at how many of them were left. All she could see was the blade that was trying to stab her, teeth trying to eviscerate her, her own face that was being slit apart by the blade, the blood that was pooling from her own wounds, the sound of her own heartbeat coming to the surface, and the silence that was filling her surroundings.

Crow offered a fair share of bullets once he broke out of the shock. Maks tried to summon a grenade, but found that she had no breath or Light, only a shuddering that had given way to panic. It was a painful, torturous struggle to find the trigger of the Ace again. Seeing the gun, the symbol, drove them into a stronger frenzy. She managed to get a few shots in, and with the help of Crow they quickly overcame the nightmare.

There was a cold chill to her shoulders, and she was definitely shaking. Maks made sure that the Ace was safe and holstered before she collapsed, gasping for breath, the smell of dead flesh permeating her whole armor. The girl didn’t even have time to breathe, the grunts and slavering in her throat were coming to a deafening close as she struggled to sit up.

She heard the soothing sounds of her Ghost healing her, and footsteps hurrying over to her. The Hunter took a moment, and then spoke: “I’ll be okay.”

An arm slipped underneath her, carefully helping her sit upright. Her jaw clenched painfully - more from anger than actual pain - and it seemed a lifetime before Maks stopped breathing heavily. She opened her eyes with a wince to find his distraught self almost right infront of her face. 

Maks ruffled her hair, a new nervous gesture, hoping she could get the blood out of it.

Being allowed to leave the Shore was motivation enough to end the High Celebrant.

“I think they were protecting you.” She made an attempt to not sound bitter from the exhaustion. “From me.”

Crow had a feeling that right then and there she didn’t want theories and speculations. Something as always told him that she knew more than him, and that was the only thought he could form over his loud heartbeat. She pushed the Scorn corpses off her so she could stand up and distance herself from the smell.

“I didn’t think they would do that.” Crow pulled her up, with more force than necessary. “I thought they just feared me because of the sigil. I’m sorry.” The Young Awoken found himself inexplicably trailing off with what he was saying, the horrible image of them attacking her still fresh in his mind. Crow cleared his throat. He knew where the line went, and they apparently competed with the world to find the worst times to get distracted. He let go of her, giving her space.

Maks flipped over one of the headless corpses with her foot as she searched for her knife. She got a brief on how these vile creatures got created. An act of _kindness_ , supposedly. 

It took a glance at him to know. 

Took a bad liar to know a _worse_ liar. He’s met Fikrul, and Crow did a decent job at hiding the fear in his golden eyes when the Scorn were around, but she didn’t want to risk asking based on the _slim_ chance that her suspicions were wrong.

“Let me help you.” She breathed out. “When you’re ready. I’m not going to give you an earful, just relax.”

_fatherfatherfatherfatherfather_

His skin itched. He couldn’t take remembering it, the horrible echoes lasting in his head for days. They were still around, but none knew the truth. All he could hear was this terrible cry. He stared down in a desperate attempt to comprehend what was occurring around him.

Crow heard the whispers of his enemies, the voices of those he’d harmed in his past life, and the echoes of his own thoughts. He didn’t remember. He didn’t know where he was supposed to go. He remembered nothing. But every now and then, he felt the hand of an ally, someone to speak with, someone to ask, someone to tell him, someone to ask him why.

When he was ready, she said.

“Not yet.” Crow shook his head, the acceptance in her eyes bringing a sense of warmth.

Maks knelt down, moving the Scorn remains around as she intensely searched for something. The holster on her arm was missing its inhabitant. It used to be an ornate knife with a handle in the shape of a snake, awarded to Hunters who reached the fabled Lighthouse. Crow snapped out of it, and help her search but they found nothing after flipping over every Scorn.

“You can make knives with the Light, what makes a real one so special?” Glint asked whilst scanning around.

“Why do Titans use their fists?” She responded.

“Good point.”

“The Red War is long over, but the legacy of its effects and of its aftermath on Guardians who’ve lived through it remains.” Maks dusted herself off, living in a dream where she won’t have to spend the entire night washing her armor to get rid of the vile smell. She wasn’t the only one affected. Months on end after the Red War, the Crucible was a sombre place. Guardians terrified of shooting each other out of fear that they will cause the final death of a friend.

She put the thought aside. The Red Legion will not stop paying for it. “Helps to have a tangible weapon, one that doesn’t need ammo.”

The knife must have fallen down into the abyss. She tried to not feel as if she were a small child who had a replaceable toy stolen. There was an option to jump and fall until she finds it, but she wasn’t that desperate.

“I could talk to Osiris.” Crow suggested, not aware of the issues Osiris had with the tournament. “For a replacement.”

Not that he believed she couldn’t hold a conversation with the mythical Warlock…

“No need.” It was just a knife, she told herself. “I’ll win a new one once this is over.” 

“You’ve done a lot for me, and I still owe you a Dawning gift.” He insisted nervously, starting to feel victorious when a rare smile started forming on her face. The look on his face told her that him insisting about it was not coming to an end.

“That would be sweet of you, Crow.” This time, she looked around the area for Scorn before falling into allure of distractions. “Osiris might not see it that way.”

“I’m a pretty good negotiator. Sometimes.”


	26. The High Celebrant.

Full speed ahead.

That was the goal.

Crow managed to scrape together another simple lure, so that multiple hunts could happen at once. Constant influx of data flooded into all of his devices and esoteric gadgets but the knife-sharp focus kept him from getting overwhelmed. He was holding his breath as the map was slowly building…

“You should get some rest, Crow.” Glint suggested. Usually Maks was the one who came in and forced him to get some fresh air, or made him think about something else for a couple of minutes so he could resume work with a fresh mind. “I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

“I need to upkeep it.” The Lightbearer blinked away the fatigue. “There will be a breakthrough any time now. I’ll sleep when we win.”

“Leave the not-sleeping part up to Maksim.”

“Can’t argue her efficiency.”

Glint rolled his eye. “Leave being funny to when she’s in the room.” They were incredibly close to killing the High Celebrant, but they won’t be able to kill him if they keep this up. And he was the one with the bomb in his shell.

As if clockwork, as if she were an essence of energy of a guardian angel, she rounded the corner. No one could hear a Nightstalker approach. She was given away only by the rattling lure in her hand.

“One of the Wrathborn got aggressive and tried to tear it apart.” Maks tossed the lure to him, knowing that he’ll catch it without any effort. “Aggressive-er, I guess.”

“I’m surprised it lasted this long.” Crow twirled a wrench in his fingers before assessing the damage. “If this pace is kept up, we’ll get the High Celebrant today.”

Maks hadn’t been able to get through every detail of his plans. They were too long; everything had come out wrong; things were always going wrong, and it wouldn’t be any different this time. Even the end. She tried desperately to be brave but she couldn’t do anything of value with the fear of failure and fear of losing him she knew was only lurking there.

When Crow looked over at her again, he saw that the Awoken woman was still trying to deal with the pain she had been feeling.

It was a given that she could kill any monster or beast, overcome any struggle even during the moments she had to rely on her Ghost. But what does defeating anything matter if she still lost people.

Cayde told her that it wasn’t her fault. That it wasn’t on her. Only if she had arrived earlier, only if she hurried more. The thumping in her head, that it all will end in a nice heart-breaking loop. And, after all the twists, the loops still looked like they were looping like…

“Hey,” Bun said softly, in a small voice. It was easy for him to feel the faint, small signs of panic. She gave him a small, but wordless, smile. It was a look so close to comfort. 

You’d start off as strong, so you wouldn’t give up. But then you’d come up against heartbreak, and so you couldn’t locate that strength anymore. And then something just had to get it, or some new twist would come along, the old thing would break or something.

“What is the Ascendant Realm like?” Crow asked, offering a friendly distraction.

“A door begins to crack and fall apart, a huge explosion rumbling through the empty halls in the darkness. Then, with a snap of an eye, all is silent.” She could offer him a better explanation: “Imagine a cathedral, but with absence of life and comfort. I can’t explain it well.”

“You’ve spent a lot of time in them. Figured it would be a warm field and blue skies.”

“It can be peaceful.” She leaned against the wall not too far away from him, not in the mood for jokes. “Guess I found a comfort in it for a while.” Maks looked down, and then back at the boy, wondering if she was telling him the truth or the other way around.

It was important for her to have a voice inside of her, because she felt like she had lost control. Maks used to believe that the way she wanted to act was always the best. When that voice started to fade away, she lost that control and decided she had to be the person she always wanted to be. She found herself doubting it all now. When she stopped thinking about it, she was not really in control of anything. Not even herself. She felt like she was just at one point in time. But now, she found herself wondering if she's truly happy and if she actually has something to prove. But she didn't know how to ask.

“It’s funny, but…” Maks continued. “When I look at all the things that have happened between us, and how you’ve grown since we’ve met… I’m not sure I have any memories of what you are _now_ in particular.”

“I hope so.” Crow hoped that no one would clean up the picture he had of the terrible man he used to be in his head. “And for the record, I’ve thought about it.”

“Thought about what?”

“I know that it can't be avoided if we get out of here, but I don’t want to know anything more.” He said. “Not about the Scorn, not about what happened here. Not for a long while, at least.”

“That’s fair.” Maks nodded. “From now on, as far as it goes, you and I have never been in the same place before three months ago.” It was an odd sort of joy, as usual.

The Light helps you understand yourself. When you know something, you can help people understand it. You can help people see things that they might not have seen before, and also things they might be thinking of doing that will be different from what they normally would do. That helps people make better decisions. It doesn’t have any other way of understanding. And it is actually your own decision.

The datapad started making noise, bringing itself to Crow’s attention.

There it was.

“I got it.” Crow said, nonchalantly at first. He then quickly realized the severity. “I tracked it down, to the Dreaming City!”

“You’re kidding.” It couldn’t have been right. It had to be a mistake.

“We’re in business!” Crow smirked, frantically searching his workshop for a bauble. “We’re finally on the verge of the coup de grace. Just one last upgrade to the lure. Just give me a little bit of time.”

Maks pushed herself off the wall, and dashed over to the Spider as Crow put the final components together. She wanted the upper hand, she desired the upper hand.

“We need to discuss payment. Skip any pleasantries you have.” Maks demanded. “The High Celebrant dies today.”

The Spider wheezed out a laugh. He had been wondering what need he had of her, but she made for a great messenger pigeon.

“You not being here encouraging my little bird and making him believe that he’s a Guardian is payment enough.” He chuckled again. “Your payment will be negotiated when the only thing between us is the head of the High Celebrant. Break Xivu Arath’s hold over my Shore, and you can claim any prize in my lair as your reward. You’ll have earned it.”

The Spider had an obsession with human culture, but she found a gap of luck that he wasn’t familiar with human customs.

* * *

Tragedies, miscalculations, betrayals. Too many to count. At the very least, Riven left her alone that day. The two Guardians reached Rheasilvia. The wispy and flimsy halls made out of wishes unsettled her. It made her realize that her own life had been a charade, and that it was only by playing this charade that she had been able to hold onto an existence outside of the one she had created, and how she knew so little about herself now.

“I think we’ve proven to ourselves that we should never fight side by side.” Crow said, trying not to itch the phantom head wound. “Let’s take it as a sign and split up.”

“Be careful.” Maks tried to sound like she wasn’t pleading. You then wake up, and go around and look around in the sun again. It then becomes clear, once again, that it is your time in that dream and you can get there again if you want to, it has already begun. “ _Please_. I know it’s not an easy choice.”

“If there is anything I’ve learned from you…”

“We can laugh when we celebrate.” She lightly pushed him. “Now go.”

No Celebrant, no Cryptoliths. No Cryptoliths, no Wrathborn. She let out a shaky breath as she began running. There was an enormous pressure to be correct, something more than just a lie. Maksim’s heart froze as she steeled herself for the fight. Xivu Arath didn’t need an army to fight them, but hopefully the least they can do is to prevent a lot of future hurt.

Their journey put them together on parallel realms, working together in tandem.

_“You were right about how the Ascendant Plane feels.”_ Crow said as she was fighting and he was studying the movements of the Celebrant. She placed down a lure once it was done. _“Ha! Tagged it! It’s bleeding energy and on its way back to you._ ”

She had seen bigger monsters.

Bullets couldn’t penetrate the insect-like armor. Not until she absorbed the powers of the dead Revenants. The voice of the Hive wasn’t there that time, but it made her hear them. It became the only way to think. To realize why everything mattered to her. Because this wasn’t a game, this was real, this was the story she knew: a story that would lead to one of the most important events of her life… But there was no way that this could ever be real.

Maks shot the blood trail left behind after she damaged the Celebrant enough, and found herself in the Ascendant Plane again. She had never thought that she was, in a sense, the savior of the planet and that she was just following its course.

She had believed she was doing this as a means of fighting and of reclaiming something from this world which was, in her mind, gone. Osiris reminded her to be quick, as Hive gods are never pleased with intruders.

The world flipped, and she was back in the Dreaming City again. She didn’t remember how she got there. She was shooting at the High Celebrant, Crow joking about something or other in her ear. Maks didn’t seem to be even able to make idle conversation with them, so she gave them the best information she could; through bullets shot at the High Celebrant. It was not the monster she was afraid of. Had to freeze her heart more for what's to come.

When you have your own vision in mind, and have your eyes open to it, you become more open to the world than those who don’t, who only go on repeating their own visions and seeing what lies there.

Harrowing silence again and a lack of color, crackling in the distance. Whispers of monsters just out of her sight.

“ _To think you can enter this plane using nothing but dead essences…”_

_Follow the trail, Maks._

_For the love of all’s left, follow the trail._

They attempted to surprise her with an Ogre, but she was quicker with her Bow. The Hive hardly did anything that surprised her any more.

“It stopped bleeding energy.” Her Ghost suddenly said. “We can’t get through.”

There it was. 

What she was waiting for, what she was steeling herself for.

She thought she would have been prepared.

“ _I think the Celebrant realized we marked it. It sealed the portal behind itself.”_ Glint broke through the barrier which threatened to eat her.

_“We’re trapped in here?”_ She recognized it as Crow’s voice.

This wasn’t happening.

It wasn’t fair.

In the chaos, she was able to recognize that it wasn’t fair. 

Maks fired up her brain for once. She could figure this out, as long as no one spoke to her.

“ _If your companions are trapped in the Ascendant Plane with the Celebrant…”_ Osiris intruded, earning a loud and annoyed groan from her. “ _… then they are already lost. Like Sagira.”_

“Hey.” Maks said, feeling her eyes starting to glow like the sun. “I just wanted to make it clear, Osiris. While I was never offended by your presence here, you’re not my friend. You don’t get to pretend that you are me.”

“ _It’s not that you’re stupid or insane, but it’s how you’re acting right now. You’re acting like you’re a threat to others, Maksim_.” The Warlock shot back.

“Unlike you Osiris, I’m tired of running from my problems, and when you’re tired of running from something, you have to find a new way. I’ve torn holes between realities several times, all by myself.” The lure appeared in her hands. “I will create more Hive magic if so needed.”

Gathering her strength and Light and all of the scars which remained after wars with the Hive, she stabbed the floor with the lure. A swirling black portal appeared right behind her. She wasn’t going to begin apologizing to Crow for leaving him behind, or begin to say her farewells. Not that she could be capable of it.

“ _I hope you can hear this._ ” His voice was a whisper in her ear. Claws of a familiar painful panic clawed at her heart. The same panic which prohibited her from speaking as Cayde was dying. The silence she regrets the most.

“ _The Celebrant turned it around on us. The hunter becomes the hunted. I wanted to…_ ” Crow stopped for a moment, as if he was about to say something else. _“Listen, if things get ugly for us in here, just know it’s not your fault. Everything I did, I did because I wanted to. Thank you. For letting me have a choice_.”

It turns out that we don’t have to give an explanation of loss. It’s possible to have no loss and still say something meaningful about it.

Maks opened her mouth to speak, but not even air came out. She translated her absence of words into anger, into determination. 

There was still a _chance_.

“I didn’t mean for you to end up there,” She muttered softly, even though he couldn’t hear it. Her body shook as she jumped towards the next blue platform. “I’m sorry… I am not… a good person.”

Maks fell into the portal.

A quick peek into the darkness of the Ascendant Plane revealed a few shadows and light at the very end, and she couldn’t be certain whether there was some other Awoken lurking behind it all, but with such dark atmosphere, she had no alternative but to make a dash for the light.

The Celebrant lives in the darkness, the shadows, the darkness that surrounds everything. It dreams of the empty walls that are its, of the void that can never be filled, the empty time that it never got to live, and of the emptiness that it never could harness.

“… _Nothing I can’t handle_.” Came the familiar voice, followed by his Ghost berating him about how the Guardian broke his legs and got thrown into the abyss. Voices, spells being cast. She fell into her familiar trance again, where it was just her and the fight. A trance she didn’t want to be in. She wanted to be aware of what was happening. She shot the High Celebrant with the Dusk Bow, followed by unleashing her sword on him.

The sound of something snapping took her out of it. It was already too late. Her sword was already broken. She didn’t have the strength to kill the beast. Her sword would only end up broken inside it. On the other hand, she had her Light. It was stronger than even her armor and could protect herself. She could use the willpower of others to break them.

She just hoped that he was safe. And in her deepest desperation she prayed: _I will die, but I will not let you die, even if it is just with my soul._

We don’t know what to do. We can’t even decide what to do and just take the same path until we reach the end of the road.

Maks only got teleported back to reality when the corpse of the High Celebrant started falling towards her. There was no adrenaline, no sense of real victory.

She sat down in front of its remains, as if paying respect to the beast.

The night around her was filled with silence, and she heard only the soft rustling of the branches. But now the wind became strong, as on a wave, and the branches parted in an immense windmill, carrying away the light of their shadows and their cries in a mass of light; but the great light of our stars, like the gleam of lightning, could hardly reach them, all around their walls, and _our shadows hid them away in our shadows; and then they began to grow dark and heavy and hollow, and the leaves began to turn grey. It took us years to reach the end of this forest; it took us decades of_ _her years, and a thousand of your years to see it._ In her heart it was fear and anxiety, of the windless desert and of the silent forest. _  
_

The Hunter did not know why she could hear the whispers. She had seen loss so many times before. These voices, so much quieter now, would move as if they were alive, when they spoke they sounded all alone. A few of them spoke with each other, and they were so hushed and so lost.

And now one of them spoke in a voice so strange, so old and so strange, that she felt as if she had always heard it in a different place.

“ _Oh, bring its head, would you?_ ” Someone’s voice said. “ _Spider will want proof when you come to collect_.”

It couldn’t have been shock, could it? 

Was the loop finally closed?

“We’ll be right there.” Her Ghost answered for her. “I think my Guardian needs a moment alone. We’ll meet you at the Spider’s Lair.”

And she knew not why she came this way in the darkness; or how it came to be so bright and so low, or whether there was anything of a light in the gloom which kept her there all day. But the wind was rising again, it was getting very hard again.

In the darkness, she stood looking through the broken and crumbling windows, she kept on looking, only hoping that she might hear a sound.

“I… I…” Maks stuttered. It was a difficult word. She would keep staring at one, then another, then another, until she broke down and cried.

“Crow’s alive.” Bun re-iterated, in a tone that could bring one to tears and yet could also be used to make one feel relieved.

She held her head still, trying to calm herself. She thought that death was all that she had to offer for the young Guardian. That’s how it usually went. A gentle whisper that seemed to come from the depths of the abyss gave everything away as she tried to grasp in her mind just how many people she couldn’t save.

But this… felt like a start. It was as if a thousand butterflies were in her ears, all trying to fly into a cage and stay there. Her fingers curled onto her chin, eyes closed, fingers then rubbing softly into her hair. She would make this guilt smaller, she knew she could. 

“I’m here for you.” Bun healed what he could, and tears streaked down her face. “You could use some rest, I think. I’ll get the… head.”

* * *

Crow wasn’t going to leave her. Not after everything. He waited just right outside of the portal. Osiris had given his quiet congratulations to them both, in his own way.

“There is one more thing.” Crow said, before Osiris disconnected.

“ _You have further questions?_ ” Osiris, while not the most patient man in the world, always had time to teach this young Awoken. While he’d _never_ say it, he was proud of what the two did that day. He couldn’t say that he had expectations for them to succeed, right up until the Celebrant was felled by both of their teamwork.

“Maksim lost a knife.” Crow hurried at the speed of light to clarify and to make it sound less silly. “One of which was part of the rewards in your Trials. I was wondering if you could help.” He rubbed the back of his neck. It was a more than little bit ridiculous now that he had said it out loud.

“ _I don’t run it. As a matter of fact, I never did_. _It was a tournament built by sycophants on Mercury which Shaxx saw as beneficial._ ” Osiris didn’t know that Crow was steeling himself and preparing for a whole paragraph. “ _Saint-14 has taken over it_ , _for his own purposes. I cannot say that I see a point in upholding it, not with its current name. With Mercury gone, it couldn’t have less of a purpose._ ”

Osiris stopped himself.

He sent her a letter, stating they can’t afford distractions in the form of revenge and catharsis. He also knew fully well that she would _never_ read it, and summarized it for her in-person.

Unfortunately, Maksim always followed instructions like a machine would. The parameter was to not get distracted with vengeance.

“ _Do you care about her, young Awoken?_ ” Osiris rarely had a tone that was somewhere under ‘slightly hostile’. The question might not have come out right.

“Should I be like you and not make friends?” Crow felt a little bit of regret after saying that.

The sass from both of the young Guardians was grating, but…

People needed each other during these hard times. Something that Osiris at some point needed to learn and realize.

“ _I’ll talk to Saint_.”

A tired looking Hunter emerged from a portal, her hair a disheveled mess. There was a sudden pang of happiness in her stomach that she had not felt in a long time. When she saw him, Maks dropped the rifle she was holding and ran towards Crow, almost knocking him over when she crashed into him and wrapped her arms around him. His own arms instantly found their way around her, holding her even tighter.

“Asshole.” Her muffled voice spoke into his shoulder, and he couldn’t stop the laugh no matter how much he tried to purse his lips. “You are an asshole.”

“Aww, I’m glad that you’re alive, too.” He, _granted_ , could have been a little bit less dramatic. But he had to let her know, and he meant all he said. Crow was the reckless one, and the Celebrant outsmarted them.

It wasn’t anything they couldn’t handle.

“Good job on the other side of the coin, Crow.” She hoped he didn’t hear her sniffle. It was so embarrassing. “I was out of it for most of the mission. I wasn’t sure if you were alive. I knew you were a troublemaker. That’s what you were in the beginning.”

Crow opened his mouth, a stupid joke that would annoy her ready, however all he produced was a shaky breath. Something deeper inside him had spoken to him that day, and he had found his voice, and he was proud of himself for it, because it meant something.

“I am okay.” Maks said weakly.

“It is… it is okay.” He said quietly. He sighed, his own breath coming out as his heart thundered.

She loosened her arms, and a sudden cold crept up on them when they separated.

“Well…” Maks stopped whatever he was planning to say, clasping her hands together. Her eyes got filled with frightening fire. “We’re running late, let’s get to the Shore. We have a gift for the Spider.”

There was still one more soul to mention.

“Sagira can rest easy now.” Glint popped up behind Crow as they began their trek back.

“Osiris will find a way to get her back.” She was sure of it. “The man does not appreciate fate. Or perhaps it was an exchange. Saint for Sagira.”

“What a terrible fate.” The purple Ghost lamented.

“Rosalie mentioned something about that we three don’t save people, we just prolong their life.” Maks said. “And it stuck with me. Sometimes an extra minute is enough.”

* * *

Maks strode into the Spider’s Lair. And then, all at once, the head of the High Celebrant head flew into the air, dropping onto the dirty stone floor and lay there, just waiting.

“Oh, we slayed a High Celebrant!” Bun didn’t even fight and just accepted it when Maks grabbed him and put him in her pouch on her hip.

The situation felt familiar, was all.

“So you did, so you did.” The Spider rejoiced, watching his lackeys move it to its new home. Two still remained, with Arc spears pointed right at her. “All right, Guardian. As promised: you can have a prized bauble from my lair as a compensation for your… heroics.”

She decided to show that she was actually not only powerful enough to stop any kind of attack from reaching her, but also to stand in front of an angry kingpin and give him a _gift_ of an answer.

“I want _him_.” Maks gestured towards Crow. The young Lightbearer’s eyes widened, darting from her to the Spider. Waking the dream, he noticed that his body could just barely move, and it was as if he was floating above, almost in the air. The concept of freedom wasn’t something that responded to him.

“Cute.” Spider said humorlessly at first, and the lackeys stepped closer to her, the Arc bolts almost burning her hair. When she was surrounded by a group of royal guards who would take any threat to her head before she was even prepared, it was hard to resist the temptation to forcefully disarm them. “Real funny.”

Crow was suddenly aware the tension of the room, which was starting to get very uncomfortable. A quick glance through her eyes showed him that she was ready to open fire if it meant getting her request.

“You said _anything_ in the room.” Maks wasn’t going to ask again, and she’ll stand stalwart if the lackeys attempt to eviscerate her. Her eyes were as focused as those of a demon. One that was ready to crush anyone who wasn’t in the mood to agree with her. The Spider’s laughter shifted into a wheeze.

All this without a hint of joy to be found in this experience.

“Oh… you really want my little bird? _Fine_. You can have him.” His words froze the young Guardian. The Spider gripped the armrest in annoyance when no one got the point. “Fly away…”

Crow’s eyes returned to hers as he began to leave the place. For once the light on him came into view.

“You shouldn’t be calling yourself a Baron, especially while the explosives are still in Glint.” She clenched her fists. “I’m all for burning down this Shore again.”

While his inability to distinguish between good and evil if Glimmer was involved was a danger, he respected business. Maks has been many things, but no one has had a bigger wealth of talent in disrupting his business than her.

Crow figured out that Maksim’s name was a bit of a curse, that the locals would not tell who the woman was. There were people who refused to talk to those who said her name.

“I’ll hold up my part of the bargain. You prove that you aren’t worth keeping around. Now…” The Spider growled, swinging one of his arms towards the exit. “Get the _hell_ out of my lair.”

It refused to sink in, even when the both Guardians were outside. The air didn’t feel any different. Being free from Spider was something that was never in his own grasp. He thought that he at least would have had time to prepare.

“Now what?” Glint popped up from behind Crow.

“I… I don’t know…” His eyes widened at the sight of freedom that was moving at an almost unimaginable speed, coming straight at him. “It doesn’t feel real.”

It was a little weird for him, it was strange for himself, to be feeling this strangely familiar feeling he sought for. It meant something.

“Well…” Maks trailed off when her shoulders slumped slightly, staring at the ground.

The thought of her no longer being there had not come to him.

“You’re leaving?” Crow stepped closer to her. His question was short and stammer.

“Not right now. But it is the point where if I leave the Shore, I won’t return to it again.” She took a deep breath. “If the Vanguard call me, I have to go.”

Maks didn’t know when or if it will happen. They’ll continue to trail Xivu Arath, but other than that everything was a waiting game. She wanted to make sure that he makes it out safely, but at the same time she couldn’t see herself spending more time on this cursed Shore. Only pain and endless looping of vengeance existed there, and no one could cleanse it. It wasn't worth to waste her energy to burn it down.

A while into them thinking about how much they’d miss eachother, Glint needed to confess something. Crow would want to stay around for a while and clear out the rest of the Wrathborn, figure out his next purpose in life. Who knows when their paths will cross again? Crow hasn’t found the words on how to thank her yet, or to realize that he's free.

“I and her Ghost transmatted half the wine bottles away for your own safety.” Glint said, implying that they _should_ do anything they want with that information.

“Meet me in the usual spot once Spider has calmed down and gotten rid of the explosives?” Maks suggested to Crow with a smirk.

“You know it.”


	27. Heat.

Maks laid down next to the bonfire, eyes following the sparks and embers it manifested. Cold unease ran down her spine. A single victory has never won a war, but it was a start. For a moment she didn’t understand what had come over her. The fire was her, the flame her only hope, and yet in its cold glow she saw an object that burned her. The Hunter grunted as she turned to lie on her back.

“I think I figured out why I actually left Europa.” She mumbled, catching her Ghost’s attention. “And it worries me.”

“How come?”

“It feels like Elsie used me. The power – standing in front of Spider – felt good. Felt like _home_.” The relief she felt when she said it out loud scared her. “Whatever power Stasis or being the one to take down Eramis would have given me wouldn’t have made me a profit. There would still be the anger that she used me.”

“I’ve been with you since the beginning.” Bun said. “You’ve never given me the impression that Aunor was right.”

In some way or another, this was what that had been. The search for a power high was the first thing she had seen at sunrise. The first thing she saw at dawn. She couldn’t feel herself even breathing anymore. It would always be the eyes of that thought staring down at her, always her mouth hanging open, and she didn’t know what the fuck it was anymore.

Maks saw the flash of frustration in the Ghost’s eyes. He was trying to see something, something in the way she wasn’t even responding to him.

Maybe leaving was the best choice now. She'll figure out where to go. She just had to say goodbye.

“I’m worried that I grew close to him because I wanted power over him.” Her hands were in knots on her stomach. “It doesn’t get any worse than that. It’s been the hardest thing in my life to accept all these plans of others that I was used for, to understand that it will always be like this, to _admit_ it.”

She kept fighting. A second or so more of her life passed, before she could take another step in her head. But what Maks saw was to come was never what she had hoped for. She knew with perfect certainty breaking out of a vengeance loop was nothing more than a dream. 

A dream that would never be.

Maks hoped, hoping, that someone would find what she had so eagerly sought all along—for they had been buried in the ruins, in the heart of the Hive or the Black Garden. Perhaps that someone would come, one day. But still.

“From where I’m… er, floating,” Bun tried to break through to her. “You’ve been sensitive about people who are more vulnerable than you are. If you wanted power, wouldn’t you be on Oryx’s throne right now?”

“It’s a different kind of power.” She crossed her arms. “I suppose you’re right.”

And, as she watched, the cold darkness around the bonfire began to fade and there in the far distance a friendly figure. She sat up at the sight.

“Still can’t believe it.” Crow’s voice was shaky yet filled with cautious amazement. “Spider was very quick to agree to your terms. I’ve never seen him give up that easy.”

“He’s seen me burn down his Shore before.” Maks’ tapped the empty knife holster on her upper arm by sheer muscle memory. Fire flared up in her arms, an immense heat flowing across her body and a burning dagger was suddenly in her hand. With one fell swoop, she cut off the neck of the bottle.

It was then Crow realized that the story of her relationship with the Shore was something he wasn’t privy to.

The world has shifted him into a man who values his life. He was tired of dying.

“He sent an engineer to remove the explosives from Glint.” The words made everything come into focus, made everything real. Optimism for the present overshadowed all fears and worries. A small smile appeared on her lips despite the remaining angry fire in her eyes.

“What’s next for you?” She intended something else to come out, but settled on a question to keep a conversation going.

“The Cryptoliths need to be destroyed, still. I’ve made arrangements so that Tower Guardians can come in and help.” Crow grabbed a wine bottle and sat next to her. “I earned my freedom. I intend to enjoy it.”

“You deserve it, _Guardian_.” For one fleeting moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of mental block that meant she was going to get caught. She still didn’t want to take away from the celebration. He glanced at Maks; her face twisted in some terrible manner as she seemed completely lost in her own thoughts.

Maks sighed. “Sorry. I’m happy that you’re free.” She raised her wine bottle slightly. “Just make sure to use that freedom and not become cynical like me.”

“I learn from observing the world around me.” He joked, grabbing a bottle. “Nothing to worry about.”

The feeling was comforting enough at first, but there was a reason why everything was like it was. No matter how bad things were, he was sure that he could find something to hold onto for the rest of his life.

Maks figured that alcohol was invented for a purpose, so she took a swig. Alcohol had a talent for amplifying everything inside her head. She wasn’t sure why. She wasn’t. She didn’t know. She’d never been a fan of booze.

“Forgot to mention that Veronica threatened me on my way here.” Crow was happy he waited until she swallowed her drink judging by her eyes bulging out of their sockets. “About a Crimson Days partner?”

There was no need to say anything more.

“She’s in a one-sided committed relationship. Don’t mind her.” Maks told, suppressing a curse. “It’s a tournament, two Guardians against two Guardians. Fighting each other to prove who has the strongest bond. With… rose petals.” Since she has killed a god or two, she blamed the warmth on the wine.

“Sounds brutish. Have you ever participated?”

She didn’t look the type, but he was still curious. He was starting to understand Tower Guardians less and less each day. Killing each other for fun didn’t sit right with him after everything.

“Er, I’m in a one-sided committed relationship with my work.” She told, stoking the fire. “It’s a sad one, but at least there is a financial stability.”

He smiled at her, and said, “That’s the best word for it, isn’t it?”

“Well, you’re gonna have to give me your help.” There was a pause, and he was dumbfounded.

“What?”

“You’re gonna be my friend, to make it less sad.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of you.” The laugh of hers at that bounced back to him. “Maybe I shouldn’t joke about it. Feels like it’s the only thing that could anger a machine with the lifespan of thousands of years and ability to raise the dead.”

Glint has tempered his expectations regarding seeing the Traveler in person. Didn’t diminish the excitement. For a moment he forgot whose face he wore, and once he remembered, the anxiety about thousands of eyes staring at him sunk in. He wasn’t sure when he’ll get to it. Maybe he’ll start with exploring some place remote first, like Venus.

“A lot of Guardians get so focused on the machine’s life in that moment that they could forget their own.” Her yellow eyes were fixed upon the fire like that of a hunter observing an area of deadly danger.

“There’s a toast for us.” His words made her gaze soften. “For new adventures.”

They talked about the wine, the past, the future. The third wine bottle turned into four until they couldn’t move or think. The fourth wine bottle turned into five until they became completely confused. A bit of gossip, they joked about each other.

Their eyes stayed on each other’s until their faces an inch apart. Each moment was an eternity to both of them. The wine wouldn’t let him register who made the move.

Crow expected the Void to be cold and unforgiving, absence of space and feeling. Everything that she once called really boring. All he received was radiating warmth overwhelming him, rushing straight into his head, making him dizzy. The kiss became longer and longer, the gentle caressing becoming more intense, the kiss becoming a passion that would tear them into pieces.

It felt like an ancient, yet still burning fire, burning the heart, making it break, and then suddenly it was _gone_. That’s when the cold came, and everything else he associated with the Void when she pulled away. He failed to see that a life of being in space would be a struggle, one he would never take lightly.

The Void’s cold, dark, and unforgiving. A cold, dark, unseeing void, that’s just like a vacuum. Nothing there. It is only when it is surrounded by a warm, calm feeling and everything is clear it then becomes completely alive like the sun.

_What the hell did they just do?_

She couldn’t explain that, right? What were they thinking? Maks felt her heart racing, her eyes widened. His expression reflected hers, his warm hand at the back of her neck.

Maks had a cold aura about her that made him feel like he was being pulled away, like he was pulled from a trance by a frightening presence far more powerful than anything he had ever experienced.

“We’re…” Maks felt as if she was trying to speak an ancient Eliksni language. “Very drunk.”

“Yeah.” Crow let the hand fall down. It probably didn’t mean anything other than it was just fun.

It was just… really fun.


	28. Purpose.

“I’m not jealous.” Veronica snuffed out the ball of flame in her hand. “I can’t remember how many times I’ve asked for a vision from the Traveler. I’m on all fours as far as the Traveler can see.”

“Great.” Maks wished that the Warlock wouldn’t have finished that statement. The two were looking at a hologram of a map of the EDZ. Concerning Taken activity was burning hot red in the reservoir. It was enticing. “Don’t get territorial.”

“I would never do that.” Veronica’s lie made Maks scrunch her face. The reason the Warlock was in the one-sided relationship that hurt her most was because she was not able to win. She believed that if she won, she would go crazy. 

“There are no feelings for him.”

“You don’t have feelings for anyone, or anything.” Veronica sighed. “Not ever, Maks.”

It was not the time for the threads of their past to get unraveled. While Veronica was more understanding than their Titan friend, there wasn't a person Maks didn't anger by leaving.

“I know it’s not fair, I know you won’t agree with me and… well I understand why I’m here, but it’s not about me.” Maks swiped the map so it’d zoom in closer at a place where she needed to be right then. “I did take it upon myself to write up your messages of the night, to share them with you, to remind myself how fucked up I was being, and so much more.”

“You never sent them.” Veronica could almost feel herself crumbling.

“I feel like you were one of the two people who didn’t want to be next to me, but I also think that you all were so sad, and maybe the rest of us should feel the same way.”

Veronica could see her. She knew the Hunter. They were a strange group, and there was nothing between them and the end. It was a matter of surviving, and then they’d find out what they had been thinking. Just how far they’ve gone, what they’ve come for.

This was not their family, though. That’s why Maks tried to hide herself the best she could. She just wanted to be alone and take some time. Or rather, she wanted to have the heart to do it. Crow could keep her off a dangerous path for so long, and everyone knew that.

Once the Cryptoliths shrivel and die, their paths will separate. Maks will find a way to absentmindedly separate them.

“It’s something that doesn’t happen often, but you’re really good at letting me see how you really feel.“ Veronica was as cold as a shard of Stasis piercing an unsuspecting Dreg.

"You can’t _see_ it, you know.” Maks closed the hologram.

“You want me to be honest? I think you’ll end up in the same position as Sagira. You won’t feel your own death.” The Warlock wouldn’t go anywhere without at least trying to get through, but Maks remained as uncaring as ever as she started to ready her gun.

“That seems like a bad thing.” The only thing she could seem to do is hold the trigger of sarcasm all the time.

“That’s why you have the Sword now. Because otherwise the Light goes out… and, well, you don’t have anything to turn it back into. I’m guessing that I won’t see it for a while.” Veronica pulled back from the dead conversation, trying to look away from the growing pit in her stomach that was trying to catch her by surprise. She thought she could change the way her friend made up her mind about the world.

“Right.” Maks flashed a humorless smile. “I’ll die, too, eventually.”

“At least have the decency to tell him.” There was no reason to waste time in a fight when she could’ve waited for the Hunter to just collapse on the floor.

“It isn’t that I don’t care about him. I do. That’s a good thing. It’s just…a lot of it might be based on a lie. If it isn’t, it’s based on something that no longer is, something I'm not sure I can live with. Something that we both made of things. To tell lies. You know that’s true. And I know it’s true.“ Maks shrugged a bit, knowing she wasn’t really saying anything. “The only thing that ever makes me look afraid is the thought of what I might accidentally do.”

Maks turned and tried to walk away from her friend but there was no response from her legs. Her mind did not shut. “I think I’ve let everyone down, and I’ll let him down when he discovers the full truth. I tried to do everything I could, everything the right way, but not a single one of them was going to solve my problems, even in the best possible way.” She said, rubbing her arm. Her brows knitted together as she thought of what she had done.

She couldn’t have been any more stupid. An awkward silence descended on them. For the longest time, The Guardian of Guardians had been living the life that someone else wanted her to live, while everyone else got destroyed. It all hurt her to admit that it might just be the tip of the iceberg.

Her own mistakes were hers.

_You didn’t have a chance. You’re an empty shell now. A shell made of steel and dust. You are just a shell, and you’ve failed miserably_ _._

She needed to visit that Shard.

* * *

Maks’ Ghost tried to strike up a conversation on their way to EDZ. The silence reminded him of how she was as a young Guardian, which wasn’t a good thing. Her glowing yellow eyes staring at the vast void on the other side of the window. Her body had stopped moving completely.

There was no reason for her to be angry now, but he was familiar with the warning signs that come before she does something reckless in a fit of anger. There was a long pause in the middle of which the Ghost sighed weakly. He could tell that he was not ready for the fact that she was going to embark on something dangerous. 

Was she afraid? Was he afraid that she’ll get herself killed?

She was quickly sleeping soundly in the pilot seat. At the very least, the defeat of the High Celebrant gave her the ability to fall asleep and rest.

“If you don’t want to talk to your friends, you can be honest with yourself and say, ‘OK, I have a problem that needs fixing.’” Bun struggled with his words. “Let me help you.” He said softly.

No response, not like the little Ghost expected one.

“All right, I’ll just find a place with some Light that’ll be enough to make you visible again.”

His Guardian didn’t have to fight this hard. She was alive. The world was still alive. Still the people she loved. The fight had always been what she loved. It was what she hoped to be. It was her only choice. Her only escape. She could give the gift to anyone. The gift of another. A life lived. The gift of a life not given. A life not taken. The gift of a life not given. There was no reason to give up hope, to surrender.

The Guardian possessed the means to take back any world. And all the weapons. But there were other ways, and her Ghost needed to tell her before it got too late. When all hope is lost, he will come and he will stay with her.

They will rebuild, together, and he will stay alongside her to keep her safe. He will forever worry about the fact that she’s not going to see it, though. That it all will be in someplace that she won’t be able to reach. It hurts to let go of things you love the most, but more than that, to not love them enough.

That’s why you live.

Maks was on a rampage against the Taken before her boots landed on the soil of the EDZ, and he was not comfortable with it. His shell was tight with fear. They followed the Taken to a place where he had no power to revive her. It was cold and unfeeling, like fate was warning him. The cold continued without stopping as she relentlessly fought everything Savathun could currently throw at her.

He just had to do whatever he could to help her. They were still alive. He’s been with her all this time, and he knew what it was like to be afraid. Maks was now moving in shadow, defeating an army with tricks of disarray and silence, infuriating them. Her thoughts were locked away from her Ghost.

The Ghost didn’t want to lose her to this. He didn’t want to be left alone to regret that day.

_I’ll die too, eventually._

It was a whole different world for her now. It all had changed her, and it caught up to her again. He was looking over her should when he couldn’t even know if she’d live or die. A massive blue light flashed across his peripheral vision.

Maks was panting by the time the fight was finished. Eyes still wide and unblinking. The rampage led them to a piece of the Traveler again. She sat down on the cold ground in front of it, and hugged her knees tightly.

How did the Warlocks do this thing, again? Maks was trying her hardest to be polite The Traveler, despite the entity looking to do its best to annoy her. Maks doubted that the Traveler would accept her, or make any more concessions on its own. Maybe it would just push her to be the best she can be. She was tired of only the Void giving her hope.

The Shard was like a bright light on a dark night. She was almost afraid to look at it. It was then she began to realize that she was not the only person who didn’t know what was going on. She was there because it seemed like everyone had lost faith and just turned away. Maks couldn't be sure how it happened, but she certainly knew that there was something to it. But she had no idea how long that would be or how hard it would be to sort it out.

“I was born in it.” Maks began. “I did not get a name. I did not get a mother. I did not get a father. I did not even get a home. I was forced to take on the shape of a savior.”

It felt like the shard was staring at her with something resembling malice. Surges of energy were slowly building up in it. She was desperately trying to understand what she was seeing. Her mind had completely reverted to a state of confusion and indecision. 

The lone Hunter continued regardless, choking out the plea: “Help me. **_Help me_**. And let me ask you something: What is the purpose of this? And what does the Light give me, other than a hunger for power?”

Maks did find speaking to a dead shard very odd and unsettling. She was still a young guardian, and she wasn’t fully formed. She just wanted something to appreciate, even if she only knew a rough outline of her world.

What would she have to do to get it to react? Her younger self would have chosen to shoot it.

If there was one title given to her she agreed with, was that she had determination that could be shattered by no one. She was going to sit there in the cold until the shard listens to her. She felt it at her feet, she felt her heart beat faster, her blood rush into her hands. Her blood pressure was rising, she felt her skin crack.

“I don’t want to be a thief of happiness of others for whom no reason existed, because a thing is nothing without existence.” She murmured, her hands trembling. “I think I’ll say it anyway. You’re the one who sent me to the underworld. Then you sent me back to you, because it was the only option left. It’s your desire to create my life that drives me to go to dark places where I doubt that everything will turn out okay.”

The blue power embracing it became more intense, collecting itself in the very center, then dying off in a large explosion. The energy of this strange power was so intense, that it was nearly impossible to see if it was burning or was fading. The energy spreading over the earth gradually began to disappear, and the remaining forms were scattered all over.

On the lap of the shard rested a gun. And on her lips, laid a defeated sigh.

_Typical_.

Another Hawkmoon, although this one was adorned with dark metal feathers. It was hard to make out what the answer meant. To her, the message looked like something which had already been told.

Her Ghost lightly bumped into her shoulder as she sat there struck a little dumb.

“I… I called Crow while we were flying in.” Bun confessed. It was the most he could do. Strapping a sidearm on his shell wouldn’t have been enough. “He’s been watching your back, too.”

Her eyes scouted for him, quickly finding a familiar figure at the top of a cliff. She was looking forward to listening to Glint snitch on him regarding injuries sustained on the Young Awoken’s way down.

“Thank you.” Maks said softly, with a kind yet filled with regret smile. Just a week or two. Then, they can rest. Have their little vacation. He didn’t deserve the stress she put him under. He won’t ever deserve that.

She felt a sense of pride when she didn’t notice that Crow was there until she saw his scaled boots next to her. That ability he learned from her is going to cause problems in the Tower. He joined her on the ground, and rested his arms on his knees.

“The Traveler brought us together to rebuild Hawkmoon.” Crow spoke softly, with wonder and amazement lurking in his voice. “We fought Savathun’s Taken, we channeled the Light, and we turned something dead and gone into something beautiful.”

“Reforged in Light.” Glint said, hovering next to his Guardian. “For a purpose.”

“I think I understand what mine is. I’m not just a Lightbearer. I’m not the man I was before. He’s gone, _forever_.” He saw how the words made her lower her head a bit. “I’m an instrument of the Traveler’s will. I’m a Guardian.”

He was so young, and yet he was able to know something so powerful, and so pure and so magnificent.

“You never needed my affirmation for that.” She looked at him and tilted her head. “You still got a long road ahead of you.”

“I never said I’m not looking forward to it.” Crow was complete opposite of her. Hopeful, rejuvenated, filled with purpose, arms full with faith in the Traveler. If being a pupil of Osiris for a couple of months didn’t whittle him down to a bitter recluse husk of a man, nothing will.

The Praxic Order and Elizabeth planted a seed in her brain. Maks was too preoccupied with guilt to notice that it had grown and become and invasive rotten forest beyond containment. That kiss wasn’t fair to him, and it she will struggle to make a dumber choice than that one. They’ve went two weeks without bringing it up. Their Ghosts, while curious, respected it somewhat.

They couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen no matter how many layers of wine they could shift the blame on. They were in a similar situation again, gazing at each other.

“While we’re here.” She licked her lips. It was as good time as any to have the conversation, so she volunteered. “Do you want to bring it up, or should I?”

“I’m not one worried about drunken decisions meaning anything.” Crow said without a second of contemplation. “Besides… I value you too much as a friend.”

Her eyes widened. At first, he thought that her face got drenched with a deep sense of dejection. But, as the seconds went on, he realized that there was a rare hint of happiness there.

“I don’t think anyone has ever said that to me.” Maks whispered. “Someone valuing me as a _friend._ ”

“Not used to getting re–“

“Ugh!” Maks knew what he was going to say and had to stop him. He still laughed at his unsaid joke, even more so when she rolled her eyes. “People have valued me as many different things. Mostly as a tool to end a threat or solve their strange family problems. Never as a friend.”

It was a kind of self-indulgence for the longest time, that she had the right to be there, and had a right to be alone.

The doubts were beginning to disintegrate now.


	29. Family.

Maks sat on the floor of Zavala’s office, leaning against the cold window with her back facing the last safe City. The consoles around her whirred, but it wasn’t enough to keep anything away.

This was it.

Crow was en route to the City with Osiris, having found a family and a purpose. The Wrathborn were close to being completely extinct.

She found herself with no answer to the question of: _What the hell now?_

The Hunter could just disappear again. That’s what she did best when she was hurting. The only problem of it, however, that she could not ignore was all the pain that she was carrying around in her mind by running. She promised her Ghost a vacation, she intended to upkeep it. She just wasn’t sure how to do anything without a purpose on her foggy path. No matter how hard she looked, there was nothing but thick fog. She wondered if she simply didn’t let herself recover. She truly believed that the Reef could solve her problems.

Ending where she began wasn’t a place she expected to find herself in. Digging holes, that’s what she was good at. It will require another journey of its own to climb out of it. Maks pulled her knees closer to her, trying to find some comfort or a resolution.

Zavala was known to be anything but gentle by people who didn’t know him. He made an attempt when needed. He walked softly enough just so he wouldn’t startle her, she had a tendency to point a gun at disruptors when scared. The bulky armor rattled as he joined her on the ground slowly, not enough to irritate her. He saw that she did notice his presence as she reached up her hand to her face to wipe away the wetness from her eyes. It retaliated, as a new tear managed to roll down her cheek.

The Guardian of Guardians didn’t have the energy to fight it much more. But, for all her talking and rabbit holes of thoughts, she could not articulate anything coherent. She sniffled again, a flare of embarrassment taking over her.

“I just want something to come home to.” She hung her head low. "You can't really leave out an element of me, or anything, and I get annoyed at your lack of judgment."

Maks let her eyes close, and Zavala laid a careful yet heavy hand on her shoulder. He recognized this; how livid she was at everyone when she first arrived at the Tower all those years ago. This time around, Zavala didn't say anything. He just let her talk, just as Cayde would have done.

"I'm exhausted, Zavala." The hand tightened, just enough. "The more I'm needed, the shorter the candle becomes. I keep making mistakes that cost people's lives."

"You did everything right, Maksim." He saw how her head perked up slightly, and she looked at him with eyes filled with slightly fading sorrow.

"I could have..." She struggled. "Could have done more. I'm not sure if I’ll ever get fully past it. I think that's the problem."

He let the hand drop to slightly shift his armored frame towards the window. Reluctantly, she followed. The City was ablaze with life. Every single speck of yellow light was at least one person still breathing.

"That's how." Zavala looked at her. "The ones you couldn't save were those who were strong enough to be able to make the choice for themselves. As Guardians, we have to protect those who can't make the choice."

"I try."

The Commander trapped a laugh in his throat.

"You do more than _try_. The City wouldn't be shining this bright were it not for you." He saw how her eyes wearily steeled slightly in the vague reflection of her on the window.

There were a lot of things he could have told her then. How the City needs her. How he's confident that as long as she's alive, the City will prevail. How they must not lose sight of the Light. How the people of the City are grateful for her efforts. How it's impossible to save everyone. We cannot control what threats come at us, but we can learn to accept our flaws and work to improve each other. Even if you have lost a friend, even if you have met an enemy that has cost you your life, even if you have lost a loved one, even if you have lost someone you would never wish to lose, you are still an angel who was sent to protect all the innocent until only you are left. You know when the end is near. You know when your life is worth it to keep walking and holding on to the hope that you will save as many as you can.

But, in the end, he settled for a simple: "I'm proud of you, Guardian. You’ve always done what you must for the good of humanity. I need you. Don’t lose sight of who you are.”

“I’ve been trying to figure that out.” Her voice was shaky and she abandoned controlling it. “Who I am was always something I used to just look at and don’t give it any thought. Now I’m just starting to see it and realize I’ve been holding back something inside of me. I...” 

“You should get some rest.” He noticed how she fought to keep her eyes open harder than any battle he’s seen her in. Thanks to her, there will be a tomorrow to resume this conversation. “In the morning, go down to the City. See what you’re fighting for.”

“I will.”

* * *

Maks slowly snuck back into the awake world, finding herself on a couch with a few knitted blankets on her. She could swear that she could smell fresh coffee and warm food she's been far too long away from. The faint scent of something that could be fruit, maybe. The Hunter pulled the warm blankets closer to her chin, savoring the moment for a little while and her Ghost gave her a few more minutes. The air was cool and smooth. It's been a while since she has been left in peace like this, and she knew that she won’t feel this way for a while.

She was alone again.

But, so was she for most of her Guardian life. When the cold weather came, even if others wanted to stay close at hand, she always found herself alone in her little room. Maks didn’t feel alone anymore, but she let her feelings get in the way. She gave up the fight with being forced to be awake. Opening her eyes, she found the light of a curious Ghost.

“Good morning.” She mumbled, wedging a hand out just to lightly touch him on his shell.

“It’s almost _afternoon_ , Guardian.”

There was no need to take it as a bad omen. She could feel herself slowly becoming more relaxed. The way she was laying there. Her eyes weren't as bright as they once were, but the look of sleepiness, still lingering, and the way she leaned her head against the armrest of the couch.

“Where is everyone?” Maks noted the lack of frames and lack of a Titan Commander.

“Zavala left for a negotiation. Didn’t tell me much more than that.” The little Ghost flied over to examine the food that was left on the desk. “This is the first time I wished I could smell. Come on, Guardian!”

Maks very begrudgingly got up and stretched. Deep inside she knew that this day won’t last long, so she intended to enjoy it. She took the opportunity to examine the place as she ate, and subsequently provided detailed reviews of the food to her Ghost.

Zavala had almost the entirety of the City’s books in his shelves, visible white marks on every single spine from wear and tear. Various artifacts, small replicas of valiant faceless Guardians. Small little steps taken to make it feel like a home. Maks laughed softly when an artifact of her own life caught her eye; a stress toy barely in the shape of Ghaul. She picked it up, stared at its ugly face, and squeezed it, finding herself feeling a tiny little bit better. Half of its paint was chipped off, not that she made it so it would last.

“I remember when I gave this to him, first Dawning after the Red War.” Maks tossed it up in the air and caught it. “I’m surprised he kept it.”

“We’ve always known that he is a big softie. He cares about you.” Bun looked around to see if Zavala was standing somewhere, nonetheless. “Maybe you should take up one of his knitting lessons.”

“Can’t tell if you’re serious or not.” She placed down the toy facing the Traveler, just for the irony. “I know that both he and Ikora haven’t been… well…” Maks waved her free hand around, knowing that her Ghost knew the end of the sentence. They’re still grieving. She wasn’t going to lay down judgement on them. It wasn’t on her to decide for how long and how others should grieve.

“How do you think they’re going to handle Crow?”

_Great question_ , she thought.

“I think they know about it.” It would be stupid to think otherwise. “I also think that they’ve taken denial to an unhealthy degree, as they usually do. Time will tell.”

Bun sighed. “I guess.”

Maks swallowed the rest of the cold coffee, and gritted her teeth at what she first thought was disgust.

It _always_ came back to Cayde, didn’t it.

There was no telling if he simply refused to rest, or if the world was using him as a strange justification.

She clicked her tongue, and redirected her attention to getting ready. She wasn’t going to be a Guardian, or whatever the world wanted her to be that day. After some difficulty and then eventually triumph in finding some nondescript clothes, she was on her way down to the City. In an effort to be even more unrecognizable, she put her hair up. Her prolonged stay at the Shore didn't do it any favors.

Maks caught herself in the reflection in one of the storefront windows, expecting a stranger to stare back at her. She found herself recognizing that face, a memory trapped in a locked realm in her brain. Her world embraced her with a hazy feeling. It’s been so long since she has dreamt. She forced herself out of it before in the man in the store would begin to hassle her about a purchase.

No one bothered her as she traversed through the market and crowds of people, and she was already used to strange stares given to the Awoken. Holes from the war still prevailed in the walls of stores and homes, and she turned her head to see sparks of welding work in the old Tower. Guardians didn’t deserve those resources, and despite what Zavala said, she couldn’t understand how her putting bullets in things actually helps those she is protecting. Maks could pour Glimmer into it, but people other than her have the final say where the workers are sent.

And how was she supposed to phrase _that_ on a podium in front of hundreds who look to her for guidance?

Maybe this all was a bad idea, just _all_ of it. She was about to cross her arms, but almost got toppled over by a group of children sprinting by carrying paper swords, shields, and bows. They were making strange noises to accompany the abilities, one was even imitating Shaxx. An Awoken girl was standing tall, heroically claiming to be the mythical _Guardian of Guardians_ , with her bow painted purple with crayons.

Or maybe the Guardians did mean something to them, something that was beyond her reach of understanding. Maks was ready to move on, to continue her aimless wander, but got distracted by the Awoken girl stumbling and getting left behind as the others sprinted off.

“Are you okay?” The Guardian asked her upon approach, and the girl nodded as she stood up and dusted herself off, just a scraped knee if anything. Maks knelt down and pointed to her little weapon. “Nice bow!”

“Thanks.” The girl carefully straightened out the edges, some of the crayon transferring to her fingers as she did. When she noticed the blue skin of the Guardian, her pale blue glowing ones grew and didn’t stop even when she saw the face of the Guardian. “You’re like me!”

“Yep.” Gathering the Void energy in her hand, she summoned the Dusk Bow. The girl gripped the arm of the woman, keeping her distance from the purple fire but with her mouth agape. “Just like you. And what do Nightstalkers do to ones running away?”

The girl put her hands on her hips, and shouted in a deeper voice: “You trap them!”

She was gone, hands tight on her little bow, faster than Maks could blink. The Nightstalker way.

The Guardian disintegrated the bow, feeling a strange sense of hollow that came with using the Void. An infinite cascade of nothing that provided a harsh reality. Where to next? Maybe if the world still came back to Cayde, she should take upon his offer at the Ramen shop. Instead of it, she found an elderly Awoken woman looking at her. Dismissing it as another weird occurrence that happens to one that is Awoken, she figured that Crow should be arriving any minute now, and that’s where she should be.

“Dvasia?” The woman called out, as if not a single day has passed since she last saw the Awoken who insisted on causing a big ruckus for every breath she took. “You’re back?”

“Dva—” Gears clicked in her brain just in time. “… _’Vas?_ ”

The woman saw the tattoos peeking out underneath Maks’ sleeve, it was confirmation enough. Before it could go any further, the Guardian held out her hand and released her Ghost. Solemn understanding shrouded the woman’s wrinkly face.

“I see…” She lowered her gaze, looking at her own hands and the Guardian’s. Sometimes she needed a reminder that time existed.

“You knew me?” Maks whispered, trying to temper her emotions.

"I know you're tired, I'm sure you are. But come with me." The woman beckoned. “I have some tea.”

“I am tired…” The Guardian murmured. She wondered whether or not she should leave, but that couldn't be right. She had too much time in here once. She knew how the rules worked. She couldn’t understand how time went by in a blink of an eye. The light flickered with a buzzing sound in the slightly dusty apartment. Maks took a seat, and fidgeted with the tablecloth until the old woman started pouring the tea. The Guardian couldn’t grasp on a single starting point, so she threw a more than a couple of cubes of sugar into her drink and stirred it just to not let the room die.

“Five cubes.” The woman noted the bad habit. Even the way she was sitting at the table, with both of her arms on it, was the same. “I’ve always wondered how much Guardians forget.”

Maks’ nose wrinkled at the bowl of biscuits between them, some covered with chocolate.

“It’s funny, because I like to drink this but I can’t stand chocolate.” She mumbled quietly, taking a sip from something that was essentially hot liquid sugar with a tinge of herbs. The way that things that were _supposed_ to be so soft and so sweet were imbued with something bitter put her off. “I _hate_ chocolate.” Maks pouted.

“I thought I recognized you during the Dawning, but then I saw you buying something covered with chocolate and I started to doubt.” The woman settled for just one cube. “But… it is really you.”

“That was for…” Maks cleared her throat, as if fearing judgement. “That was for a _boy_.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Must have been some boy!”

Maks laughed softly, before realizing where she was and what she was doing. She hugged the warm cup with her hands and leaned forward a bit.

“But I don’t remember you.” She tried to recognize the woman, but not a single thing resurfaced. “Are you my… mother?” There was no claiming that she was in any way prepared for the truth, or even _wanted_ it, but there was no going back.

“You were an urchin, and what happened to your parents died with your memories. I never pushed. I could see how much it hurt to think about it.” The woman told, and a better description came to mind, and she offered the Guardian a wrinkled smile. “You were like an orphaned stray cat. Fought like one, too.”

"A… what?" She heard the endearment in the old voice, but still had to ask: “I mean, of course I know what a _cat_ is…”

The woman laughed hoarsely.

“You’d come in for food, or warmth, otherwise survive outside by yourself, you never stopped fighting. You would disappear for weeks or months at a time, but you’d always come back here – bearing a bruise, or an infected scar or two that needed to be mended.” There was no better description. Some waits were longer than others, especially the latest one.

Maks’ hands started to fidget slightly around the cup. She didn’t know what she expected. She was just a nobody, and it was comforting in a way. There was just one small thing.

“I was told that I was an Awoken Corsair. How can I be _Earthborn?_ ” Maks asked, not in a tone as if she were trying to foil a lie but out of a need to fill a blank. Why would an old woman lie to her?

“You overheard a rumor, about a hidden city somewhere in the far distance of the system. One which could hold answers that I didn’t have. There weren’t that many Awoken in the City during those days.” She took the bag out of the tea, wrapping the string around it against a spoon. “You were wide eyed, stubborn. Brave beyond measure. You'd have found a way. I can still see that in you.”

“I must have died on my way back home.” Maks guessed. “My Ghost found me in the Cosmodrome, I must have died from exhaustion. I… I almost made it home.” She found herself apologizing, almost. For a life she doesn’t remember, for the void and worry that she caused. For everything.

“You _did_ make it home.”

“Guardian.” Bun hated interrupting. “Zavala has declared an emergency. The Vanguard want you on Nessus.”

“I’m sorry, I-I…” Maks stuttered as she stood up, but the woman understood. Wasn’t the first time. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll come back and visit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dad Zavala.
> 
> Dad Zavala.
> 
> Dad Zavala.


	30. Viper.

By the time Osiris and Crow had finished talking and Maks wasn't remotely close to listening, she was done configuring the console in the H.E.L.M and had everything she needed. She didn't say a single word to either one of them, didn't even look at them.

As far as she was concerned, she was alone in the room. She finished the fight on Nessus and now she was...

_Ugh._

She decided to give them five minutes. This wasn't her mess, not entirely. Just five minutes for them to give her a solid argument why this was her problem or why they made it her problem.

Maybe she should be grateful that they were on the _verge_ of a war, and not in an irreversible war. That there's a chance... But that there is a chance. She didn't trust herself for a minute. She was afraid to take on this.

The idea is the thing they'll use you to fight you in the present, and make a deal that if you don't die, they'll cut off your head. But it's not easy.

It wasn’t easy, but then so many other things were so easy.

"Guardian--" Osiris began again, a bit sharper this time. Without even giving him an acknowledgement, she tossed a smoke bomb right at her feet, concealing her. Osiris found no humor in it, but fortunately far enough of a distance away. As Shaxx once said, smoke is just another way for a Nightstalker to say she’d prefer you didn't stand so close to her.

The cloak wore off with a crackle. Maks tried to speak, but all she mustered was a low and angry hum. She dug deeper into what the console held, gathering everything she could. Hive confused her, too many worms squirming in her head.

The Cabal were her forte.

Largely against her will.

"Any word from Calus?" She asked.

"Nothing ever since he left the system." Osiris said. "Caiatl appears to be hunting him with a vengeance. Intel is scarce for now."

"It appears that I finally have a role in this situation of my own and that's good enough for me." Maks closed the console, having seen everything she needed to see. "Based on what I understood - as communications were muddled - I and Emperor Calus have an understanding."

"I assume this understanding of yours hasn't been disclosed to the Vanguard, as per usual."

She almost chose to ignore the question, but she figured they could use the intel.

"Those who gift assassination orders also gift you an _incentive_ to carry them out. We thought we could outsmart Calus, by embarking the Leviathan and killing him.” Maks shook her head. “It was a learning experience. I'll play their games. I'll assassinate his targets. They know what's coming for them. I've heard what's going to happen to me if I don't play."

"And what will you do when Calus inevitably doesn’t keep his part of the bargain, and you end up as one of the missing Guardians aboard the Leviathan?"

“Just let me do what I want.” She groaned as readied her weapon, dodging the question. “ _Alone._ ”

"Nobody needs to remind you in plain words as to what happened the last time you were encouraged to go on a rampage and 'do what you want'." Osiris crossed his arms tighter. She glanced at Crow for a brief second, as if asking him to tell his father to calm down. "And you'll have no say in the latter. Crow and Holliday will be accompanying you with their respective expertise."

Maksim made a conscious effort to not openly showcase her bafflement about whether it all was part of some elaborate hare-brained stupid plan. She knew Crow and Amanda well enough to know that they'll get along easy, she knew how long a war takes to settle.

The pain that the revelation would cause to Amanda...

What a cruel joke to her.

Just one of the things the Guardian of Guardians didn’t have power over.

" _Compromise_ , then. They won't have a say in me doing what I want. See it as a mirrored action or a repaid deed." She gave them a friendly salute before hopping off to be on her way. Battle and other trials waited.

Something always waited.

Even with the mask on, it was difficult to miss the way Crow's eyes followed her as she left. Whoever that was, that wasn't the person Crow had gotten to know during those three months. He wasn’t sure if he liked it.

"Void users." Osiris scoffed. "Nothing can stand against nothing. To be unmade from within... there is no defense."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Crow asked, making sure that all trackers and technology were working before the mission. It was strange to get to work with anything that wasn’t ramshackle tech shoddily built using anything they could find on the Shore.

"For the fall of our enemy? Of course. For us having to deal with the consequences of her methods? No." Osiris said, eagerly awaiting the fallout from the way Maks freed Crow from the Shore. Crow standing there in itself was fallout from one of the Vanguard letting her loose. "Maksim is unpredictable, especially when her anger gets the best of her. There have been times when her being a stray variable has saved this world from annihilation. But right now, it's a price to be paid."

There were a _lot_ of things Crow could point out right then.

“Her going straight after Caiatl didn’t seem like an empty threat.”

“She’ll calm down. She won’t let the Cabal do any more damage in the meanwhile, buying us time for further… negotiations.” Osiris reassured him. “Dismissed. You’ve got your orders.”

* * *

Maks felt oddly proud of herself, with her feet on the war table and a datapad in her hands after a successful mission. Not being in charge was a soft safety net, leaving her with downtime between orders.

“ _By claiming that bell, you’ve officially declared yourself a challenger to the Cabal Empire_.” Maks’ nose wrinkled as she read the letter out loud. She was ‘encouraged’ to not let important mission reports remain unread for many months. “ _Caiatl’s commanders won’t stop coming for you until they see you buried and the bell retrieved.”_

“Another normal day at the office…” Her Ghost joked un-enthusiastically. “At least we got one nice day in the City.”

She had to admit, she enjoyed it.

“I’d take them wanting to assassinate me over them being in love with me.”

“You are oddly calm about this.” Bun hovered closer to her, to check her head for bruises he missed. A hologram materialized right next to them without her noticing.

_“Young Wolf.”_ The speed and force of which her feet fell from the War Table almost caused the wooden floor underneath it to break. “ _Osiris mentioned you crashed a Cabal ritual they call the Rite of Proving_.”

“Yes.” Keeping her words as minimal as possible when in front of Saladin was the smartest choice. He brought her up to speed, with no complaints from her. Plan was simple: eliminate anyone who wants to fight her to keep the Cabal war council empty. Maks considered some of it to be below her pay grade, until Saladin mentioned the Cabal seeking means to make themselves into Exos.

The Hunter had just enough of respect for Lord Saladin to not open her mouth and suggest that they shouldn’t interfere, and that Exo-Legionaries would make for an interesting fight.

Maybe she was just going crazy.

Maybe she should climb on top of the old Tower and see if she can bungy jump with tethers of her Shadowshot.

But then again, maybe she shouldn't do any of that.

“ _Get in the way_.” The Iron Lord ordered before the hologram fell apart. Saladin and Maks shared a mutual trust, one which began during the SIVA crisis. He was confident in her abilities, and therefore trusted her implicitly to do a task which was given to her. In simpler terms, he encouraged her to go on a rampage to do what she wants. And she appreciated that.

Just as she turned around to dig in the vault for warm clothes, she met Crow walking up the stairs. It felt strange not being able to see his face, made him _too_ mysterious in a way.

"Hey!"

They haven’t really had a chance to talk since he left the Reef.

"Were you being serious, Maks?" He asked, briskly walking over to her. "That you're actually leaving to take upon this war all alone?"

"I'll figure out where to go and where to find Caiatl, I always do. I’ve had help before, but I’ve learned from those who helped me." Maks took a deep breath, she saw the worry through the mask. "Look. You're relatively safe now, you've got a family. I have a hard time finding a further purpose in this... _operation_. I'll be back once she and everyone is dead."

There was the notion that if you needed to convince someone to stay, they had already left. Crow didn't want to foresee it, using the way her teammates were with her as reference. If there is one lesson he garnered, it was that they were given a chance to try again and to put a stop to darkness. He felt like he needed to stop Maks from doing something stupid, as Osiris and the others only seemed to encourage her. He leaned in a bit closer to her, catching her gaze.

"I know it's selfish of me to say this, but I don't want you to go on your own. You’ve got every single Cabal in the system trying to cut your head off, and…"

Crow paused, and then blurted out the next ever so softly without thinking, all the while realizing how uncomfortably vulnerable he was that close to her: "I'm not sure what kind of feelings I have for you, but you mean something to me. Something irreplaceable. You're..." He trailed off with a shiver when he saw the surprise in her widening eyes, and looked down before he found anything else in them.

He wasn’t angry at _her_ , but at what was overtaking him, the Void which had unmade him. The feeling which opened the door wide and invited her to stay, giving her the power to make him feel this way, all without his permission, during possibly _the_ worst time. It wasn't fair. He didn't ask for the splinter in his heart to grow with every silent second that followed.

Maybe he needed this harsh lesson. They were revived to die. If the call was to sacrifice her life to end the Hive once and for all, she'd probably do it. That's why she never asked for help. Now the call was to sacrifice it to put a permanent end to the Cabal.

Maks was an exemplary Guardian through and through. He's seen that in the eyes of civilians that she passed by, the way they looked up at her in awe. The way they thanked her.

It all added up to a moment that would have been comedic if he wasn't right in the middle of it. He still couldn't tell how deep the feeling went, if it was close friendship or something... more. He was completely unsure. It was like every time he thought he had figured the feelings out, something new would come up and change them again.

There wasn’t a sound, no screams or gunfire or voices. Only his nervous breathing in his mask.

Silence followed his request, and he felt like he had his answer.

“You’re not being selfish.” Maks’ eyes flickered with sadness as she spoke. “I’ll stick around as much as I can, and I know that it’s going to be my own damn fault if I die because I’m too stubborn to listen to others who want to help. It’s been a long time since…”

“I know.” Crow didn’t need her to finish that sentence. He was given a short tour by Amanda as he waited for orders, and the untouched makeshift empty office in the Hangar covered with maps was incredibly difficult to miss. Maks looked away from him, as if she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. It's like something has happened in her mind that she couldn’t quite put into words.

“But, I still don't know what this is between _us_." Maks raised her hand as if to touch his chest, and sighed. "I... don't think I can deal with complications right now."

“Well.” Crow started to say, before thinking better of it. “That’s certainly direct. Under these circumstances, I really couldn’t either.” He really didn’t know what to do or feel. At the very least, there was a great pile of work for them to do.

They were in a war.

“Damn it!” Maks remembered the harsh reality of what she was doing, she could almost hear Saladin brandishing a burning axe somewhere. “I have to get to Europa.”

“Hm." Crow accepted the change of subject as she retrieved warm armor from the vault. "Do you wonder if the Cabal wish they could just enjoy the simple things in life?"

“Such as what?”

“Like, you know, not being annoying.”

Maks laughed, barely loud enough for him to hear.

“A lot of holes in the City wouldn’t exist if they would have taken the path of appreciating the simple things.”


	31. Smoke.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this moment, sister.” The Drifter said, lighting the cigarette with a snap of his finger and taking a long draw from it. “I'm not sure what the hell we're doing here with Caiatl, but I'll tell you this: it's going to be fun."

He held out a small box for her to take a cigarette from. Maks nervously looked at them before grabbing one, but she didn’t feel like following her judgement as within seconds it was lit and the foul taste was filling her lungs.

“Thanks.” Maks said, exhaling. She leaned against the cold railing, overlooking the City. The two of them were silent for a moment, taking drags from their cigarettes.

“No problem, kid. So, how about that new shiny Lightbearer traipsin’ around here? Even for a City Guardian he is obnoxious.”

“You want to sit here and waste time, pretending that you don’t know?” She asked him, without missing a beat.

That’s why Drifter liked her.

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t really care.”

“ _Bull_.” Maks slammed one of her hands on the railing, gripping it tightly in annoyance.

“I swear.” The Drifter said, holding up both of his hands for a moment in defense under the stern gaze of her narrowed glowing eyes. “I only met the dead guy twice; I think he was tryin’ to sell me something for his sister. That’s it.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Oh, why not?” He smirked, the crow’s feet around his eyes sinking in deeper.

“Because you’re a thief and a liar.” Maks spat, her words half smoke. “You’re a centuries-old immortal who’s very dedicated to running your own scams.”

The old Drifter barely avoided death from a combination of laughing and choking on his cigarette.

“That’s rich coming from you.” He pointed at her, a jade coin lingering around his fingers. “You’re no angel. You’re a cold-blooded killer of gods and Barons with no remorse, just how this world likes ‘em. Hell, you tried to have _me_ killed once! Why the change? You care about him?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He paused, looking thoughtful, then laughed again. You can't go back and change what has happened, and you can't move forward without facing your demons.

“Oh, that. Yeah, I know. You’re talkin’ about the time when Aunor thought I supplied the bullets for Sundance. I’m afraid to tell ya, it wasn’t me.” Time has closed that particular wound. He exhaled one final plume of smoke. “I was miles away before any of it happened.”

“Hm.” She watched the spear of ash break down and fall down to the City. “Can I have your word that you’re not going to sell him to the Reef, or worse?”

“Cross my heart.” He promised her, making a crossing sign with his jade coin. “Considerin’ how much you terrify me and that I’ve made a mental note to never piss you off, I don’t have a choice.”

“Good.” They shared a handshake to make it a proper agreement. She was almost done with the cigarette, while refusing to adopt another awful habit. “I see the old him creeping back slowly. The… _grating_ Prince. At least he’s on our side now, making it endearing.”

Drifter sighed, shaking his head with a sharp cackle.

“You’re really going down the rabbit hole, aren’t you?”

“I guess I am.”

“Like I said, kid: you’re crazy.” Drifter put his cigarette out on the railing. “I won't sell your boyfriend back to the Reef. But I'm not promising anything else. We'll see what happens. Just don't make a habit of barging into my life like a loveswept teenager.”

He’s had enough of anything and everything related to that with Orin.

“Fine by me.” Maks was in no mood to correct him. “Where did you get these cigarettes?”

"I stole them from a hobgoblin."

"No, I mean… where did you steal them from?"

"From a hobgoblin who was actually guarding them."

Maks was really happy to have her Ghost. She should tell him that more often. Sensing foul taste of Vex material in her throat and that the conversation was over, she had business in the Hangar. She finished the cigarette, flicking the remains of it away.

The Cabal have started to aim for her ship, thinking they could get an advantage. It meant that she couldn’t do her job when she was stranded in the Tower.

“I’ve never met a Guardian who has broken this many ships in this short amount of time.” Amanda complained to herself, and then noticed Maks standing there with a scowl. Reminded her very much of a particular Iron Lord. “Don’t worry, Guardian. Crow ain’t doing it to get my attention. The way he talks about ya, I can tell.”

“This City needs to focus on better things than the way someone talks about me.” Maks crossed her arms. “We’re in the middle of battle.”

“Oh, Lord Saladin? Sorry!” Amanda wiped the grease off her hands with a rag, wouldn’t be polite to wipe them anywhere else. “I thought you were this famous Guardian everyone’s talkin’ about. Apologies again, sir! Easy mistake to make.” She was sweating bullets of sarcasm, but she did break the Guardian a little bit.

“I suppose that if we keep this up, Caiatl will lose interest in us as warriors and will appoint us as comedians.” She uncrossed her arms and stretched a little bit, trying to appear less tense. “What about my ship?”

“No can do, Guardian. Zavala’s orders.”

Maks laughed awkwardly. “What do you mean?”

“Big blue’s worried about you.”

The Guardian closed her eyes, took a deep breath, slowly opened them, and decided to try again: “ _What do you mean?_ ”

“You’ve been eviscerating the Cabal for a week straight. I know you’ve set some standards, but Zavala doesn’t seem to be a fan of you extendin’ them.”

At times, it was like speaking to Cayde. Always insisting on working alone, begging to be let out of the Tower. Maks knew this as well, remembering that Amanda had years of experience with this. Nothing she could do would get her in the sky until tomorrow.

“ _Fine_.” The Guardian sighed in defeat.

* * *

"You're up late." Maks heard his footsteps from a mile away. The silence of the night in the H.E.L.M made everything a lot more audible.

"I have a hard time sleeping in a soft bed." Crow quickly corrected himself: "Well, soft compared to what I had before."

"I can't say that I have ever seen a Hunter sleep in a place that makes sense." She wasn't the one to judge, as only indication of how far in the night it was happened to be cold tea next to her. Crow took a seat beside her, and took off the mask just so he could rub his tired eyes properly. The frames had departed and there was no risk of anyone barging in, not without the both of them hearing it first. Even Osiris needed sleep.

"What are you up to?" Crow asked, fingers twitching for a wrench and the lure to do maintenance on. He was done with reports and tasks for the day. Maybe he could find a drone to work on when things got slow. Scouting was not the same. He enjoyed his new position, felt the impact of it, but ever since he left the Shore he's been missing something.

"Passing time.” Maks shrugged as she mumbled. “I was… _encouraged_ to take a break. It's cosier to do that here than on Europa. My skin is blue enough as it is."

Maks was leaning her face against her fist, almost leaving a red mark on her cheek. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail leaving some strands of red hair dangling. Her other hand was mindlessly flicking the screen of a datapad, catching up with messages with great disgruntlement.

He wasn't sure why he was suddenly taking notice of it. Maybe what he missed was being able to be friends with someone without the mask on. He and Holliday have been talking during missions, but he knew that no one would be friendly towards him if he was bare faced. It all felt hollow, somehow. Temporary, that whatever friends he makes will abandon him the moment the truth is out. He wanted to tear his hair out. What could he do to stop the haunts of the man he was before?

Upon noticing his inner struggle, Maks gave him a small friendly smile. One that managed to distract him, even just for a moment. Reaching up a hand, she slowly began lowering his silver hood - one strand of hair and one sharp feature sticking out at a time until the fabric was fully down. Her fingertips very lightly grazed his back when her hand fell, and the small shiver triumphantly escaping his throat made him realize he was holding his breath.

Crow couldn't understand why, but he felt his heart racing at something so very simple. He found his defences to be completely obliterated. She was too good at that.

Maks no longer had that harsh look in her eyes, one of remembering something painful and long dead.

It was a look he recognized as safety and trust, now. That was the irreplaceable part.

"Hey." She whispered, tilting her head. "Are you doing okay?"

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Crow shook his head, golden eyes now fixated on the hologram on the war table.

Maks surprised him when she laid her weary head on his shoulder, all without a break in whatever message she was responding to on the datapad. She felt nice. He felt safe. He felt like he could stay like that forever. Crow felt a connection with her that he couldn’t explain.

“Thanks.” Crow whispered after a long time, absentmindedly leaning into her. “I needed that.”

Maks looked up at him, smiling warmly. He returned the smile.

Whatever it all was, he didn’t mind it.

"I... I never..." Crow took a deep breath. He felt his cheeks burn as he realized how stupid he must look just sitting there and gawking at her. “I’m sorry, I’m messing this up.”

His thoughts and everything got interrupted by a door opening close by, and smell of food.


	32. Red.

Maks pulled a knife out of the neck of a Cabal she had slain, finishing the Proving on the Cosmodrome. Just another day.

“ _You make it look easy, Maks_.” Crow complimented her.

“ _Yes, if only all Lightbearers had their focus_.”

Maks had started to wonder why exactly she preferred to work alone. It felt counterintuitive, and she finally was about to admit that everyone trying to help her were right.

That was until Saladin and Crow were appointed to oversee the mission and provide their... unique set of skills.

“ _Was that remark pointed in my direction?_ ”

“ _We had no time for idle chatter when we were defending the walls at Six Fronts, I’ll tell you that. And I doubt Zavala tolerated it during the Red War_.”

Maks blankly stared at her Ghost, eyes pleading for help. She wondered if the true Rite of Proving was testing how much of a headache she can take.

“ _You’ll forgive me. I’m new, so I’m not caught up on our history…_ ” Crow began, and Maks braced herself. “ _What were you doing in the Red War?_ ”

A victory of no response from the Iron Lord awaited him.

“ _Huh. Must be a bad signal_.”

She cut the comms herself before her tendency to be too impulsive got the better of her. Her Ghost knew what was about to happen.

“How could he even say such a thing?” Maks chose her words carefully, her eyes narrowed and her face scrunched up in distaste. She looked at her Ghost, her bloodshot eyes full of pain and disappointment.

“Has anyone… told him about the Red War?” Bun wondered. Crow’s obviously _heard_ of it, but he wondered if the Guardian was told about the details.

"We lost friends, we lost family, we lost complete strangers who sacrificed themselves so that others could live! How could he _not_ know that?" She put more effort into trying to control her tone than thinking about what she was saying. Maks wanted to scream about how he could so casually dismiss such losses, just for an opportunity to be snarky.

“You should be the one to tell him.”

Maks took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. He was a new Guardian, and any sort of yelling right now would be worse than pointless. She clenched her jaw so hard she thought it might shatter, a small trickle of blood from a previous injury seeped from the side of her mouth. She brushed it away, impatiently. A twinge of paranoia hit her Ghost, but he dismissed it. Maks was just on edge because of the situation.

How she ached to vent all the anger and the frustration and the loss she felt all because of the Red War. She stood up and opened her mouth to do just that, but found herself unable. All she could do was to fly home in silence. Maks caught the tail end of a correspondence between Caiatl and Osiris, all she could gather that no war will happen as long as she had bullets.

She didn’t even need her Light. A sidearm will suffice. Maks didn’t know why, but she felt like laughing. She felt like screaming. She wanted to punch something. Everyone she had talked to just said that it will get easier, but it just doesn't. The Red War just gets dull, like a constant ache that never goes away. They couldn't afford to lose anymore. They had to move forward, or they were all doomed. Her job was to ensure that survival.

“I never got the chance to ask for your impression of Caiatl.” Osiris’ words briefly stopped her hands at the war table. That made Maks' blood boil. She was tempted to grab a weapon and go hunt down Caiatl right then. But, that would be folly, and she knew it. Maybe she'll settle for a long piece of wood and whack something with it. Osiris patiently waited for her to speak.

“I feel like I’ve been assigned to the front lines, but I know that this is just a prelude for something much worse.”

“Fair enough of an answer.”

“All this as…” Maks sighed. “As if she could just pretend that she was just doing a little good instead of being totally insane. It’s pathetic.” Her words were cold, but her eyes were not. Osiris could see the pain and loss in them.

“Often what we think of our enemy reflects on ourselves. It’s a tired saying, but a true one.”

“Yes, I suppose it does.”

Maks didn’t seem particularly interested in what he had to say. Indeed, she almost seemed bored by it. She sighed for the millionth time that day, and rubbed her eyes. What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know how to react. Silence filled the air, she continued to work on the console, wondering what he’d say next. She glanced at him, as if studying him.

“Is Crow around?”

“En-route.”

She grabbed the ends of the war table, barely standing as her knuckles grew pale. She closed her eyes, seeming more exhausted than ever.

“There was one strange blessing that happened after Cayde got murdered.” The words tasted foul on her tongue, her cheeks were hollowed, her skin sallow and drawn just from thinking about it. She’s trying very hard to remain strong. “The endless nightmares of listening to everyone die by Cabal blades got replaced with his insufferable blue face.”

"We may lose this war. That doesn't mean we have to lose ourselves in the process." Osiris stared at her intently, trying to make his eyes convey every ounce of disapproval he felt for this war. As she noticed that, she wordlessly sat down on a nearby chair.

“I’m tired, okay?” She mumbled, resting her head in her hands. “Can we do this another time?”

Osiris respected her wishes, by exiting the room and leaving her in the dimly lit H.E.L.M. There was not so much she could do about it now. All she could hope is that she can pick herself up before the war is lost. Her eyes drifted over the various banners and other objects cluttered around. It was all too much, and not up to her standards, but she appreciated the craftsmanship.

“Lord Saladin doesn’t like me very much…” Crow couldn’t say it seriously to Glint, as a snort managed to escape. She looked at him with a mixture of confusion, then shock, and then anger once again. It caused him to freeze up in the spot. “Did something happen?”

“You’re lucky I like you.” Maks said, her voice quiet and strained.

“Something you said, Crow?” Glint inquired, aware of the tension as they approached her. He watched the concern grow rapidly on his Guardian’s mask-less face.

“People had their own traumas and their own reasons as to why they chose to not get involved in the Red War.” Maks wasn’t even sure if she even could yell if she wanted to. “What you said wasn’t really fair.”

She opted to burn holes into the war table with her eyes, it was getting too difficult to look at him. “I know how much work you’ve put in, and how easy it is to get annoyed. Trust me, I _know_. There are better ways to get at it. Iron Lords weren’t known for battle and absolutely _nothing else_. Anything but…”

“I…” Crow stuttered as he settled into one of the chairs, heavy weight palpable in the air. “I can’t know for sure what you went through, but I know it had to be horrible. I just can’t understand what kind of Commander would... Sorry.”

The words seemed to calm her a bit, her pale blue face showing a faint sign of relaxed stress.

“I was furious, too.” She let out a huff of exasperation. “It was… it’s still hard to talk about, even now.”

“Maybe we can work on that.” Crow said carefully, trying to not sound like he was psychoanalyzing her. She smiled a bit, though it didn’t seem as genuine as it probably should. “Talk to one another, I mean. I didn’t know your losses. I’m sorry for them.” His voice was dejected and sorrowful, unsure of where to go from there.

The dead can never be made whole, so words of comfort are wasted on them.

Then again, who knew about the undead?

“There are reports you can read for my involvement in it.” Maks attempted to save time, her voice dropping to a whisper as she recalled it. “I tried. I tried my best. I was supposed to... I tried... but I couldn't find anyone. Those who didn’t leave The City were slaughtered by the Cabal. All of them, didn't matter if you were a Guardian or not. And I was alone, with no Light. For days all I had was a sidearm and a trembling Ghost.”

A tragedy far beyond either of them. He offered what consolation he could, but he knew it’s never enough.

“What about the Vanguard?”

“They left. All surviving Lightless Guardians were left without leadership.”

“ _What?_ ”

“ _Everyone_ felt lost, Crow.” Maks recalled, keeping her voice in check so it wouldn't crack. “Like, no one knew what they were doing anymore or where to go. Fighting meant death. A lot of us got scared.” She paused once more, swallowing hard. She slouched in her chair. Then, she continued, as if speaking to herself. “I don’t know what kept me going to fix it. Something… kept me going. Kept me moving. I don’t know what it was.”

Maks went silent, as if she was still living that moment over and over again in her head. She still had no concrete memory of how long she walked. Could have been days, could have been weeks. She traced the route with her eyes on the map in front of her, not being able to blink away the image of her shivering Ghost. She had purposely forgotten most of it.

“You don’t have to go on.”

“I… have to finish.” She let the words die out of the air.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” Crow placed a hand on hers. She looked at him, surprise in her face, but didn’t pull away. Maks hesitated for a moment before twisting her hand to be able to grab his. She squeezed his fingers tightly, as if she was not sure if he was there or not. “… I was an ass.”

Maks laughed, a humourless sound.

“You were _always_ an ass.” She said, looking into his eyes with exhaustion. “ _Always_.”

“Eh. The best of us!” Crow smirked for a second. “… They’re never perfect!”

They shared a brief chuckle, lifting the heaviness.

“No, I suppose not.” She looked down, taking a moment to compose herself. “You're a good person. You don't... have many chances to reflect on that, but I'd like you to know it.” Maks told him, not wanting to let go of this comfort. “There are good people in this world. Even if they do dumb things, they're good at heart.”

“Maybe you’re just too polite to ever say anything bad about anyone.” He felt like the tension had lessened enough for another joke. She laughed, half bitterly.

“Maybe you should be a comedian.”

“Probably not my strong suit.”

Maks smiled back at him, but it faltered a bit, as if the weight of the world is on her shoulders once more. She gave his hand one final squeeze before letting go.

“I should go…” Work never ended.

“Stay.” Crow stopped her. It was just a little bit too soon. “Just for a little while.”

“Zavala has something for me.” She told, regretfully. “Sounds important. I need to take care of it. Thanks for… listening.”

Crow nodded. “Anytime.”


	33. Presage.

“Great job, Crow.” If Glint could, he’d clap very, _very_ slowly. “I’m glad it ended well, but maybe try to not insult her father figure next time?”

Crow ran a hand through his hair underneath the hood.

“How was I supposed to know about the father figure thing?”

“’ _Young Wolf_ ’ didn’t give it away…? With all his wolf metaphors...?”

“She has a lot of nicknames around here.”

Crow remembered what he returned to the H.E.L.M for, something suspicious found on Nessus alongside more target hunting to lessen the war. He fastened his mask, as anyone could barge in at that hour. It was still early in the day and too much had already happened. He found comfort in the thought that it was only up from there.

“You should tell her already.” Glint insisted completely out of the blue. It was getting tiresome to watch them.

“Tell her… what?” Crow raised an eyebrow at the Ghost, causing him to scrunch up his shell in frustration. Glint sincerely couldn’t tell if Crow was feigning obliviousness right then. “About more targets? I’m working on it. I don’t like what those Psions are up to.”

He was just being annoying on purpose. As he always was.

“I suppose we have an advantage.” Glint said. “If others would see you without a mask on next to her, your past identity wouldn’t be the thing that’s the talk of the town.”

Crow elected to ignore his floating companion. The glowing spot growing on Nessus was more important, as the Cabal fury towards Maks was limitless. She didn’t seem to care at all about it, or be very engaged in the escalating situation outside of delivering bullets at light speed. No wonder Osiris was constantly on edge. Biggest obstacle with Nessus proved to be Vex and the Cabal fighting about who gets to kill her first.

Other planets needed to be kept an eye on, Cabal could show up anywhere, incoming unrelated reports from other parties about suspicious activity. Maybe ask the others about the Tower defenses, and…

Glint wouldn’t leave the corner of his eye, situating himself in a very specific spot. To be fair, he learned how to irritate others from his Guardian.

They couldn’t afford to get distracted, but he had no place in his heart to shoo his Ghost away.

“She made her feelings clear, and it’s not a good time.” Crow argued, his point proven by another ping on the map they needed to investigate as soon as possible.

“You should still tell her.”

Crow knew it was coming.

He was tempted to lie, or to downplay things, but this was the reality.

“Do I put the ‘I have feelings for you’ _between_ ‘we are trying to not escalate a war’ and ‘I am wearing the face of a horrible man who killed your friend’?” Crow rubbed his chin in jest, staring at the ceiling in fake deep and overly dramatic thought. “Or right in front? Or save it for last, for a surprise? What do you think would be best?”

Glint didn’t have to exactly fry his sensors trying to figure out why she didn’t return the feelings, and it had nothing to do with his face.

“Well. We know where we _shouldn’t_ start. Progress!”

“What would you suggest?”

"I don't know, really. As a Ghost, I've never had those kinds of feelings for someone." Glint did the best he could. "You still need to give her that knife. Maybe ask Osiris?”

It was a completely ludicrous suggestion.

"I'm not asking _Osiris_..."

He jumped a little when he saw a figure not too far away. For a Warlock, he was too sneaky.

Scarily sneaky.

Crow didn’t wait for Osiris to ask anything, or ask him for how long he’s been standing there.

“… about this strange cluster of Cabal and Vex activity on Nessus.” Crow lied, naturally, praying that the whole _City_ didn’t hear the entire conversation. “Because I figured it out. I’m on it.”

Osiris began his own operations near a different spot of the war table, and Crow couldn’t help but be curious. Something was being tracked in the sky of the Tangled Shore.

“More Xivu Arath interference?” He asked, and Osiris shook his head.

“No. Maksim found an errant Guardian distress call coming from a Cabal ghost ship, one thought to be missing. The Guardian is on her way to investigate.” He grunted in disapproval once he saw only _one_ ship on the tracker. “ _Alone_ , by the looks of it. Even a force equal to her would not be able to make her accept companionship. I hope for her sake that the ship is completely abandoned.”

Osiris believed that Maks needed to be more selfish sometimes, so she could be more concerned with her well-being. They couldn’t afford to lose humanity’s champion because of her own daredevil and audacious ways of carrying on with life.

Not now.

A persistent glimmering blessing in a dark curse of the void.

“You know what? I can’t blame her.”

Osiris narrowed his eyes at the Guardian, rest obscured by the red mask: “Something you said to her, Young Awoken?”

Why did they _always_ assume the very worst of him in that regard, or that it was _he_ who said something?

“No, _never_.” Crow said, happy that he could shift the conversation to work. “I have focus for my task at hand.” He tried to imitate Saladin’s gravelly voice, just softly enough so that Osiris wouldn’t notice it. He was sure that Glint was keeping a tally of others being annoyed at him. Amanda and Maks were the only ones left standing.

“You’re clear for live-fire engagements.” Osiris told Maks on the other side. “Board the Glykon, and find our missing Guardian.”

* * *

The void is vast and empty. It has no life, no warmth or cold, nothing but blackness and endless nothingness. There was only her there, in this place where there should be none at all. Osiris was a hand on her shoulder as she explored, not being too overbearing yet providing her with valuable info about the Glykon.

Something was hunting her. She turned in the direction of the growl, but saw nothing. Something called out to her across the endless darkness. The ship was rocky and decaying, filled with tendrils of darkness that she’s seen before in Drifter’s ship. The air in her helmet was stale and dry, and strange spores danced right before her eyes. A light plume of condensed smoke billowed out from a door not too far away, and a flickering energy cast an eerie glow. Maks could hear the sound of faint voices.

The smoke hurt to the touch, and the spores told her what to do: she had to become engorged in darkness to proceed. She always hated that, even back when she was a Gambit regular. She never felt ready for it.

In this case, Maks just had to bite the bullet. It consumed her, swallowed everything whole. She didn’t want it, but it was definitely a comforting blanket. There was no Light there. There was no motion. She drifted, a speck of dust, amidst an endless expanse of black.

Then, it began to scream. It screeched louder than the sound of a supernova, louder than the birth of a black hole. It was the sound of nothing, screaming for every last ounce of her soul to be eradicated from existence. Then, she found herself on the other side crawling through a vent. Her body always worked faster than her mind.

In the distance, something blue appeared. A tiny speck of blue energy floated by her, and then it disappeared into dozens of screebs surrounding her. She reacted quickly, trapping them with her Dusk Bow and hiding before the cascade of explosions would reach her. Maks made sure no more surprises awaited her before complaining about it.

“Screebs shouldn’t be in space.”

“ _According to the logs, they were subjected to a sort of experiment. I am translating what we’ve found as we speak.”_

Maks scoffed.

“The only thing the Scorn presence here tells me that a gun to someone’s head is not a form of justice. It’s just an execution.”

“ _Pick your words very carefully, Maksim_.”

Osiris knew that she wasn’t going to.

“If harm comes to people after justice was enacted, was it truly justice?”

“ _We can focus on that later. Forward_.”

The ship had nothing to offer but horrific mutated creatures and puzzles of darkness. Something terrible happened there. Gleaming metal and destroyed turrets, endless corridors, the pale red light blinking on levers. Shadows take the place of light. Shadows shift as the creature hunting her crawls right above her, and sway across the walls.

Maks reached a red maze, and horrific voices echoed in her ears. Something more reminiscent of the sounds of a child's screams, gleeful and high pitched. She felt an impact in her chest, like a fist slamming into her. She emptied a magazine into a wall, expecting a shriek of pain and whatever was hunting her to fall to the ground and burst into ash.

There was nothing, just flickering lights trying to disorient her.

“I’m in a maze.” Her voice bounced off the walls, and echoed in the silent halls. It quickly died out. She heard nothing, except for a ringing in her ears. Had to keep her head high, had to move forward. Maks mapped out where she needed to go using some of the bullets she wasted. She felt cold outside her armor as she carried on.

_“Shall we be friends?”_

It couldn’t have been, but she had to ask Osiris about that to make sure she wasn’t losing her mind.

“Did Crow say something?”

“ _No. Why?”_ Osiris responded after a brief pause.

“Something is very wrong with this ship.” Maks shivered as she scaled the wall to reach a hatch. She started to hear a quiet ticking. It got louder as she went further, until it almost blocked out the sound of her own footsteps. She trudged on.

The tick-tick-ticking increased in volume, until it was almost like a voice...

_“Bring back some tales, Guardian._ ”

It was…

Blue energy and Scorn manifesting took her by surprise, and she thanked the Traveler for having enough Light for another Bow. She could feel the burning, and the blood, and the panic coursing through her veins, and then it was over.

Exploring the Glykon was like falling into a void, a bottomless pit. Every consumption of darkness to move forward pulled her apart, and then re-assembled her in a different place.

What a terrible place.

_“Go be the stray variable._ ”

Sagira this time around. It was like the ship put her mind in a cell. In a locked, barred cell. Fear washed over her as she realized what kept happening. It made her believe that her life was nothing more than a memory, and her only desire was to escape the place. While her body did not wish to be taken, her spirit did not want to be left alone.

She found herself in a boiler room. Confusion washed over her. What just happened?

Maks narrowly avoided the Scorn lantern heading for her sternum. The snarls of the Scorn began again, louder than before. Louder than the roar of a dragon. Louder than the pounding of a war-host’s drums. It was all around her.

But, she still had ammo. As long as she didn’t run out of it she could survive. She wanted to live. She did see her own mortality, a rare thing for a Guardian.

_I just wanted to help._

_I’m sorry?_

_You know I tried to stop all of this, but I’m sorry._

_You’ve put yourself in serious danger._

_I’m so sorry. I really should have stayed._

_Don’t worry about it, anymore. Just keep watching me. That’s the thing I’ve learned so far. You’re a good shot, remember that?_

The large Scorn fell to its knees as it died from the final bullet in her chamber. The sense of dread still clamped down on her shoulder. She wanted to shrug it off, but her muscles refused to work.

“It’s dead.” She muttered; her voice muffled through the metal of her helmet. "It looks like they tried to incinerate the Scorn once they were done with the experiments."

“ _Good._ ” Osiris said. “ _… This anomaly left in Mars’ wake… I have seen it, and others like it_.”

Maks couldn’t claim that she knew what he was talking about.

“ _In place of each world the Darkness stole. At the edge of our heliopause. Calus meant to commune with the Darkness._ ”

“What happened to him?”

_“I am yet to know.”_

One final push. She had to find what remained of that Guardian.

A distress call sent to her was always, _well_ …

She sensed no more danger, no more footsteps in the shadows. She carefully made her way to the trace of the Guardian.

The tendrils of darkness held something, and she hurried for a closer look.

Blood dripped from the mouth of the strung-up Guardian. Maks… didn’t recognize him. Someone she has never seen before, someone young. Someone she could have been. She felt cold again, seeing his dead eyes staring at her.

“What…?”

“ _Faint traces of Light. That thing… was a Guardian. We’re too late – far too late._ ”

She lifted her hand, trying to reach him. Her hand trembled slightly. Thousand voices screaming, crying out in pain and fear.

The figure swung gently, the cloak he was wearing covering him from the cold.

“I… can only hope that he died well. That he was strong enough to face his death with courage. That he didn’t suffer. That he went quickly. That he…” Her hand fell back to her side, with a mournful sigh. She saw the dried blood on her own hand. “We should do something to commemorate him. I don’t want him to be forgotten.”

" _I’ll see what I can do. We'll be at the H.E.L.M if you…_ "

"I don't." She dismissed him and his concern. "I'll search for his Ghost, and see if I can find anything else of interest worth reporting. I'll be back once I'm done."

" _Leave that to the other Guardians once Zavala has been briefed about what you found there. Your task there is finished_." He ordered. “ _Return to the City_.”

"Great. That's quite enough of that." She said quietly, deadly so, as if telling someone that she knew how to run a business. Everything that just happened hung over her, as clear as crisp as a blade. Her hands jerked up to keep her grip on rage inside of her. "What _are_ you saying, Mr. Big Dog? I can do it myself."

* * *

" _What are you saying, Mr. Big Dog? I can do it myself_."

Osiris watched the tracking blip fade away from his map. She’ll be completely unreachable until she chooses to come out. The mission shouldn’t have been something she couldn’t handle.

Crow had no indication of the daily work she usually did when they worked together on the Shore.

Dealing with the Wrathborn must have been a vacation to her, he thought.

"Do you think it's fair to lay it all on just her?" Crow asked, to make conversation more than anything.

Didn’t take that long for regret to hit him, and to realize how much of the earlier conversation Osiris had overheard.

“Don’t let your attachment to her cloud your judgement.”

“I’m not…”

“Maksim won’t let anyone else volunteer, presuming that someone even wants to. Her position is less sought after than one of the Hunter Vanguard.” Osiris was in some part curious as to how she exactly did it. “However, she should be aware of what her actions have wrought. We can’t let a war escalate due to her being busy taking part in some mythical Nightstalker tale of her own.”

Crow got the point, though still felt like Osiris’ growing anger towards her was undeserved. With a sigh, he resumed tracking the Psions. He was close to a breakthrough.

“Keep this up, and she’s not coming back. She’s gone.” A female voice called out, and Crow recognized it as Veronica. Osiris knew of her, though they have hardly met. Veronica observed the fancy surroundings on her walk to the war table. “Zavala let me in. I combed through the intel she got you from The Glykon.”

Osiris hurriedly brought up the translations, the logs, and the scans again, to find what danger they might have missed. He came up empty handed. Everything on that ship should be dormant.

“What did you discover, Warlock?”

"Exact same things she did, look at the Captain’s Log. Emperor Calus has moved on to a _state of being_ where he doesn't have power over her, so the harrows of the assassination list are no longer looming." Veronica explained, eradicating some of the stress in the air. Didn’t seem to impact Crow’s eyes, though. "Only the really smart ones can imitate being stupid. You gave her a ticket out, and she accepted it. Thought I’d report on that."

“You cannot imply that any of it was on purpose.” Osiris shot her down. “Maksim is not a schemer, she’s a soldier.”

“I’ve known her since she cleansed the Black Garden. You have _barely_ met her by comparison.” Veronica nodded towards them both. She’s been through this. “Maks knew that the distress call wouldn’t lead anywhere. Go, look at her record and find _one_ instance where she didn’t find a corpse at the end. She knows how her world works. She only wanted to know what became of Calus.”

“Doesn’t seem like her to abandon it all.” Crow almost chipped a tooth from gritting them. He felt like he has said those words before. He didn’t want to get in a fight with her. Instead, he decided that she’s probably just upset about something else in the world and it will pass soon enough.

“Only if _you_ knew what a rabbit hole she has dug for herself. I hated her for doing this two years ago, but even I would run in this case.” She saw him flinch at it, but couldn’t draw any attention to it. “Look, I’m here to mostly tell you to leave her alone, and that I know where she is if an emergency happens. That way you both can win.”

Osiris sighed. “I suppose we’ll take anything we can get.”

“There is a shuttle, just right outside of Nessus’ orbit. She’s good at cloaking but she’s not one to solder a circuit. The comms are open. My Ghost can give you the info. Ping her _only_ when you need her.” She told them. “We er, used it for business. Private… transactions. Those of which don’t need to be disclosed to the Vanguard.”

“Should we ask?”

“I don’t really want you to. Not really how I want my first conversation with you to transpire, Osiris.” Veronica cringed in pain. Just as any Warlock, getting to talk the ear off Osiris was something she’s been looking forward to. “As for Maks… I get what you’re feeling towards her. I did hate her for a long time. I truly believed that she was some selfish, damaged person who was out of touch with humanity.”

“Only impression I’ve gathered of our Guardian is that her not caring about her life is a problem, one which could lead to the fall of the City.” Osiris didn’t hear the irony, and no one in the room dared to point it out either.

“When you’re busy dealing with other people’s problems, sometimes you forget to deal with your own. She won’t burn you alive if you just give her a minute to disappear in-between without any notice. Maks is like a stray cat.” Veronica said, as simply as possible. “A stray cat who on occasion sacrifices everything in short of her life to gain an advantage against anything that is a threat to this City. But she needs a minute. She won’t come back if you won’t let her.”

They had no choice but to take her word for it.

“So be it.” Osiris didn’t need to tell her where he had to go, so he left without a further word. Crow would be lying if he didn’t feel a bit calmer after that. He – almost nervously – tapped on the war table, pondering if he should bother the Warlock with the question before she left.

“Do you mind if I ask you something personal, Veronica?”

“Sure?” She shrugged a little bit.

“You and Maks…”

Veronica expected it to come up.

“We’re not together anymore. Well, _obviously_.” She bit the inside of her lip. “I really loved her.”

“What happened?”

“I told her that.” She kept her eyes on the map, before sighing. “I can’t tell if you’re paralyzingly awkward, or very confidently not into her.”

“I…” He found himself stumped. “Forget I asked.”


	34. Coexist.

The music in the shuttle was loud enough to annoy Failsafe down on Nessus. Maks laid on the old bed, her head hanging from the edge with her loose hair almost touching the ground. She loved that shuttle. There was no concept of if it was day or night, no idea what was morning.

Time didn’t exist. She’d been there for about a week, but she couldn’t tell for sure.

Her own little broken Distributary.

Not that she truly had a connection to the Reefborn Awoken life, after all.

The rush from being free from Calus’ clutches was wearing off, no matter how hard she tried to grasp it.

“I’m losing my mind.” Maks whispered, with a weight of desperation. She was right, this was a test. The world would soon wake up, she thought, and he would wake up to find all that he knew about himself destroyed. And that was what was troubling her, more than ever, now. She didn't want this. Yet, she wished for this constant pressure on her. For the chance to see things through the eyes of others, and to be free of these illusions, to be free of this cycle.

So, once again, she was standing, still in this small world, trying to keep hold of what was lost, in hopes of keeping it until it was finally discovered. But now it was, and she was alone again, surrounded by nothing but her own thoughts. It was as if she were a lost child in The City again.

“I became a Corsair of the Queen. I met him then. On my way out of there, I died and became a Guardian. A twist of fate led me to meet him again, because he was the only one who knew where the Black Garden was.”

She paused, to make sure Bun was following. At that point, she was not aware of the speed she was talking. “Some years later, he pissed me off more than usual. Then he became a Guardian. And guess what? We met again. At what point does it become ‘ _we are new people_ ’, and cease to be ‘ _we are destined to haunt each other until the very end of time_ ’?”

“In any case, at least you two have chosen the…” Bun tried to find the word. “… _peaceful_ route this time.”

There were a lot of other words he wanted to use.

“Traveler’s gentle persuasion to get along is one hell of a thing.” Maks felt herself going dizzy. “I still hate chocolate… I can’t stop thinking about that.” She mumbled.

Considering it all, she was surprisingly at ease with it.

It just refused to be simple.

“I don’t think you’re handling what you experienced on The Glykon very well.”

“Add it to the list.” She shelved it for the moment. “Then there is the war. I have so much power yet I have no say in this war. I know that I’m going to lose someone again, and I don’t know how to prepare for it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I feel it.” Maks swallowed the lump. She looked out the window, at the endless expanse of stars, their lights a bright blue against the blackness of space. “I _feel_ it.”

The words were spoken in a whisper, but she could hear them clearly enough. They were coming from somewhere deep inside herself. Like an echo of her own thoughts and what she has been through, echoing off the walls of her mind.

The shuttle was a place she used for forgetting. She found herself unable to escape. She was trapped in a place she thought was safe, and she hated it. It reminded her too much of The Glykon now. As the flashes of light grew longer and longer, she went over every detail in her head.

Maks laid there in silence, waiting for _something_ to happen. The bright lights shone on, and the blackness stared back. Maks repeated the words under her breath, wondering if they’ll go away. They didn’t. They stayed with her, mocking her, distracting her.

Every face. Every name. Every mission. Maks repeated them all to herself, trying to make it go away. If she repeated them often enough, maybe they would.

It didn't work this time. She curled into a ball, as she had so many times before. Exposure to darkness amplified her fear. The Guardian stayed like that for hours, until her eyes started to feel heavy.

“You can do this, Guardian.” Bun told her.

She wasn’t ready to give up, she’ll fight as long as needed. Everything they threw at her, she had faced it down. Even fear. She had faced fear, and conquered it. It would be the same with this. She just had to face it down.

“I think the worst is the lying.” She softly spoke into the pillow. “Lying to Zavala, lying to Amanda. Lying to everyone who’s been so kind. All the while Osiris keeps telling me to hide everything I feel.”

“We’ll be alright. Even if we have to act like everything is alright, even when it isn’t.”

Maks gave him a small smile. “I’m a terrible liar.”

“ _You’re needed back on Nessus, Young Wolf.”_

She jolted up from the bed, hitting her head on the glass ceiling of the shuttle. As a result, she ungracefully fell off the bed with a wince before she could comprehend what happened.

“Ow! How…” Maks rubbed the bruise on her head. Was this another trick of The Glykon? She thought she was far enough away from its influence.

“… _their leader is Ixel, the Far-Reaching…”_

“ _How?!_ ” She growled at the console, almost smashing it when she laid her hands on it. “How?! How did you find me, _old man?!_ ”

Saladin’s voice continued. It was a pre-recorded brief: “ _Whatever Ixel digs up could give Caiatl the winning edge. Or worse, simply unleash destruction on us all…”_

“Oh, I will _kill_ Veronica.” She didn’t need to hear the rest of it. “Bun, mute all incoming communications. If I’m going to do this, I don’t want chatter in my ear.”

“I don’t think we should take Cabal playing around with Vex prediction engines that lightly.” He had to make sure that she heard that part, but she was too busy gearing up. “And you’re not listening. Great.”

* * *

Maks overheard pieces of the conversation as she returned from a successful mission.

Successful in terms that another Cabal troublemaker was dead.

“… Well, the Cabal are just thrilled we’ve been interfering in their politics.” Crow said to Osiris. “A lot of them are just as unhappy Caiatl tried to fold us into the empire.”

In the shadows, she waited for them to finish. She thought she could slip in and out quietly.

“Interesting.” Osiris nodded thoughtfully. “Another crack in the shield.”

“Aren’t you worried about retaliation? The data we’ve pulled from that prediction engine…” Crow tried to understand why Osiris was so calm about it. “We need to act _now_.”

“That data represents _possibility_ , not fate. We need to know more.” Osiris’ attention got diverted to her making herself visible. “Good, you’re here. We'll discuss what you uncovered on The Glykon later. The Psions you broke up on Nessus are plotting something. Help Crow investigate this further.”

Crow interrupted just as she was about to speak.

“Wait… you aren’t going to tell the Commander? This concerns him. He deserves to know.” He struggled not to raise his voice, to not appear out of line. Maybe with time it all will become less infuriating.

“My hope… is there won’t be anything to tell. Not if you and the Guardian see this through.”

Crow turned to face her, seemingly exasperated. “Don’t know about you, but I’ll take that as a compliment.”

The old Warlock, ignoring Crow’s tone, left them be and silently told them that he was expecting progress whenever he decides to return.

She wasn’t getting a clarification, she figured. She was given a leeway to take things into her own hands.

“Well, then.” Maks cracked her knuckles, and looked at the time. “I’ve been back for five minutes. I’m going to take the boundaries of this social hierarchy and I am going to burn them to the ground. Excuse me.”

Crow looked at her as if she had gone completely insane. From the rumors he has heard, that could mean that she was either going to quickly kill a god or inform Zavala about what she thinks they’ve found.

“Wait!”

“You can’t tell me that Zavala is in danger and expect me to lie to him!” Maks shot back; her fists clenched. There were some ideas that she would gladly go along with, as she has done. This wasn’t one of them. It will never be one of them. “He has done too much for me to heed what Osiris says.”

“I don’t like it too, but we have to assume that he has a point. We need to keep digging. At the very least, prepare for a retaliation.” Crow tried to make her see reason. “If it does turn out to be nothing, I don’t think we can afford panic.”

Angrily grabbing a datapad, she let her body fall down on a chair, and her Ghost joined the fray of aiding Crow to feel helpful. Now that her shuttle was compromised thanks to Veronica, she had to stay there at the H.E.L.M. Osiris had a point, that Zavala didn’t need the stress unless it was necessary in order to not negatively impact the strength of command. Maks could only respond with a defeated low croaking sound and her entire body slumping.

“I am guessing the next step is to shoot Vex to gather information.” She guessed. Many things didn’t change around these parts.

“Seems like it. Just need to figure out where it would be the most efficient.” Crow got right to working on it, though he still noticed that almost indecipherable mass of anger and pain on her face. “We need to track down the Psions who stole the data. Maybe we could get an advantage.”

“ _You’ll be okay, it’ll go away, you have to give a prayer_.” She muttered it so quietly that he didn’t even hear her. “No, I don’t.”

Maks found herself not only getting more withdrawn, but that she was also becoming increasingly arrogant just generally unpleasant to be around. Maybe that was just the impression of her she got from Osiris. She tried to think. She rather them go after her, to transport themselves into a parallel world where the situation was fairly similar, except she didn’t exist.

“The Vex are strewn about everywhere.” Crow said. “We could brute force it, or take the slow but reliable approach.”

The choice came easy to her.

“I don’t think we can rely on luck to make things go quicker. Slow it is.”

“That’s surprising. I was expecting you to get up and leave to crack Vex heads the moment I brought it up.”

“Maybe I enjoy being here.” She told him, inconspicuously, pretending that she didn’t see their Ghosts paying way too close attention to all of it. They weren’t obligated to take anything seriously asides for keeping them tethered to the world of the living. “And I have a pretty good understanding of how many Vex there are.”

They had a lot of work to do.

“At the very least, there is a reprieve from Saladin this week. For me, anyway.” Crow was desperate for a silver lining. Just _anything_ , really, to hang onto. He and Glint were catching up on City’s history, he had not yet caught up on the demise of the Iron Lords. Maybe he’ll find something that will change his mind, but doubt resided in him.

“Would it help if I told you that he was even more stuck up when I first met him?”

Crow had an incredibly hard time imagining it. “I think by definition that constitutes as a marble statue, one that would make the Vex ones on Nessus look alive by comparison.”

“In retrospect, I needed that. Saladin just wants people to stay _humble_. And _focused_.”

"Well, I'm glad you came around when you did, Maks. You've always had a way of cutting to the point, no matter how blunt you are with it.” His tone was playful, always treading that very fine line.

Her stifled groan made him laugh.

“Use that charm on getting those Psions to flock to you.”

Maks tried to not show a lot of it. It was all just a glimpse, but the thought of the Cabal succeeding with the plan terrified her more than the nightmares themselves. There was an option to go her usual route, to do everything she can to ignore it. Sometimes she saw them around the City, the dead. They were so thin, they would stand near the walls, staring at her. Calling her name.

Zavala was not going to become one of them.

She constantly looked over her shoulder as she went over the reports, as if hearing a voice. Crow caught bits and pieces of the Presage operation, but he saw enough to know that it wasn’t anything good.

“You know, when I was shown my own grave and coffin, I didn’t care.” The words came out of her mouth a lot more casual than she’d deem acceptable. She weighted if she should continue converting the H.E.L.M into a counseling room.

“I… I _don’t_ know what you mean.” Crow looked at her in confusion. Every day he’d hear some new bizarre and otherworldly thing about her from others. “You’re not saying that just to make me shut up?”

“No. Good idea for the future, though.” Maks didn’t want to go into detail about how unpleasant it was to see her death so readily accepted by her own self. “I think it made me realize that when I die, it won’t be to an ordinary mission. I know when to ask for backup.”

He backed up a bit in his head. “I’m still stuck on the _you saw your own grave_ statement. How would that even be possible?”

“It’s not, really. I and Osiris were literally destroying the fabric of reality and time. It’s sort of a long story.” The way she easily resumed reading reports about the Vex after saying that was a good indication that he won’t get any more answers.

“Huh. Remind me to ask Glint to skip just a few pages of Guardian history.”

“Are you that interested in me?” She teased.

“Maybe.” Crow figured there might not be a better time to ask, especially with her never being in one place for too long. “When we get a breather, do you want to get a drink with me in the City? One... that isn’t on the ground of the Tangled Shore.”

“You make it sound like a date.” Maks didn’t even look at him, as she was focused on a long correspondence on the datapad.

He didn’t know what it was, or _why_ , or _how_ , as instead of feeling hurt, some representative of incomprehensible choices possessed him to ask:

“Would a date with me be a bad thing?” Once he heard what came out of his mouth, he started preparing for how relentlessly Glint will make fun of him for it once she's not in the room. No word of rejection she could provide him could be strong enough to eclipse Glint.

Maybe he also concluded that this was a terrible time to even think about it. Her yellow eyes darted up to his face, and he noticed how tense he was only when she laughed softly. Natural sweetness wasn’t something he’d usually attribute to Maks, but she had her moments.

She also looked at him as if he was a complete idiot.

“No, I don’t think so.” She smiled warmly. “But, a date with drinks would require you to take your mask off in public.”

_Right_.

He forgot about that. Suddenly, he became aware of every inch of that mask on his pale blue skin.

“I’ll figure something out.” He didn’t want to admit to her that it might prove difficult. Something pinged on the map. He had to stop thinking about it. “Right. Psions and the Vex first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a small note: I don't have time to write much; so unless contextually stated otherwise, Season of The Chosen chapters are usually a glimpse into one day each week. I planned to end the fic as a whole with Season of The Hunt, but I enjoy writing these drabbles with little cohesion.


	35. The Consequence.

Maks has been avoiding Zavala. She despised it with every essence of her being. Crow told her that he was still figuring out where to go next, not losing hope that there was something more to the Psions. She got a distinct feeling that occasional bouts of her not being allowed to fly were not out of concern, but due to a lack of trust. She paced back and forth in a hidden storage room of the H.E.L.M., trying to come up with something.

With such a lovely smile, she knew she had no place there. All over earth. All through space. And more to come. Where was her family? She hadn’t made a choice. She won’t have to. She has taken part in the sacrifice she had to make. The world she had lived in for so long.

She was going to talk to him in his office. It wasn’t right. They could prohibit her from flying and making bad choices, but she was very good at hiding.

“Good to see you again, Guardian.” Zavala greeted her before her cloak wore off. He’s been getting good at that, she had a set of unique tells.

“Zavala.”

“I have been meaning to ask you something.” He began, finishing something on his console. “What’s your assessment of the new Guardian?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t met him yet?”

“With this situation with Caiatl, the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. I’ve heard that he does good work.”

“He reminds me of myself. No, he—” Maks’ snort cut off her words. She cleared her throat, as Zavala probably was in no mood for jokes. Not that she had any. She just tried to buy some time to _think_. “Sorry. What do you want to know?”

“I trust whatever it is you may have for me.”

“He’s a Gunslinger?” She thought she could save a couple of words, and there was a sense of understanding on his worn-out face. “We’re... close. Honestly, nothing to complain about from my end, his heart is in the right place. Sympathetic to everyone, for better or for worse. He’s a little bit naïve, at times arrogant. Haven’t we all been, though? Don’t think it’s fair to compare new Lights to me.”

“Lord Saladin has offered a different opinion, on both subjects. You have paved a path for new Guardians.”

“Emphasis on the arrogance and naïve part.” Maks shrugged with a humored smile. “Lord Saladin’s two favorite things. Saladin gravitates towards mouthy and angry bearers of Light. And not those who… Well. If you didn't have any first-hand experience with war, you might even feel sympathetic towards someone who has committed atrocities in the name of their goals.”

“Indeed. The Iron Lords will never change. We need them more than ever now.” Zavala nodded. He’ll see if he can spare some time to talk to the young Light. Maks contemplated for a moment, biting her tongue. “Was there something to report?”

“No.” She strained out the word, she didn't care if he could tell that she was lying. “They haven’t clipped my wings, but encouraged me to not fly. They want me close by. I’m just… acknowledging that other people exist, which is a new thing for me, and a step forward.”

In a way, this was a realization she has had for a long time, but just never cared to see it before due to being happy in her own little world.

It wasn’t of her to check up on people for no reason. She has always been a bit of a hermit.

“That’s good, Maksim.” The Commander said, clearly happy that she chose to acknowledge him.

“Yeah.” She nodded just one too many times for it to appear natural. She didn’t know what else to say, and it made her feel weird.

She almost laughed.

Then, she got scared of what’s going to happen next.

"You'll have to tell me in more detail later. I should get to Vanguard duties."

* * *

Osiris had begun to pick up on the fact that she cut communications with them while in battle. He turned to her the instant he noticed her presence in the H.E.L.M. after another Rite of Proving. She appeared to be doing them solely for the pure enjoyment of pestering the Cabal. Maks looked unscathed, and as detached as ever. She turned it all into a routine, as opposed to being an active actor in a war.

“Maksim, what would it take for you to take this with any notion of severity?” He wondered, interrupting what Crow was about to report about. “Your first concern upon hearing that Caiatl wishes us to be part of the Cabal empire was to be concerned about yourself.”

Maks couldn’t figure out where that even came from, and Osiris was getting impatient. She glanced at both of them in the room before giving him her answer.

“What do you _want_ of me…?” She asked slowly yet desperately. Each limb of command appeared to have situated themselves on their respective edges. “I have a track record of being every single thing everyone wants me to be.”

“That does not matter in _this_ war.”

“I’m not letting the Cabal settle here, and I’m not letting them take more. They will not find a home here through the force of destruction and recruitment.” She stated the obvious to him. While she wasn't listening, she had a grasp of the situation. “I have the capability to obliterate them. You know this!”

“You have to consider that obliterating those against Caiatl means losing valuable strength against the Pyramids when they return. Are you willing to make that choice?”

Maks could figure out that it was just a hypothetical. Hoped it was.

“It pains me to say it: _you have the power_ ; seems you get the last word. You know how I operate.” Maks diverted her eyes to the console in silence as she took a deep shaky breath. When it became too awkward, she started observing the tiny sparkles in the hologram of the map. It was endless. They’ve been robbing Caiatl of soldiers, but it just inspired more volunteers. She sighed. “Is this what it's come to? Are we actually going to be living like this for the rest of our lives?”

"I'm saying you should leave this all alone until further notice, we need to keep a careful eye on War Council aspirants and their roles.” Osiris ordered. “The Cabal know you. Perhaps their strategy is to provoke you into attacking them. Caiatl has learned from the falls of others, _Guardians included_. She knows that you’re the common variable. We need not give them a reason and a cause to escalate it into a full on war against the City.”

Maks scoffed, fighting her Light so she wouldn’t summon a knife to throw.

"Oh, so I'm supposed to sit still and just _ignore_ the fact that there are armies on the brink of destroying our world?"

"There are always going to be armies on the brink of destroying our world, that's hardly news. You think the world is going so well right now?"

"Obviously better than it has ever done!” She raised her voice without thinking, without knowing that Osiris was too irritated to realize she was joking.

"Then _why_ are you trying to change that!?”

Maks didn’t know what to say to that, taken aback by his words. If Osiris would have had his Light then, the entire H.E.L.M. would be set ablaze. Purple energy was creeping up her own arm, pulsing through her veins.

He calmed himself down before speaking again: "I know it might seem strange to someone so carefree and generally unconcerned with such things."

That was one step too far for her, she had enough of that. Now it was clear why.

"I'd say you're one to talk to me about saving the world repeatedly, as if I’m not the one that’s been doing it on a regular basis, often of my own volition." She didn’t need gift of foresight to knew what he was going to respond with. That if she believes in something so strongly then by all means she should do what makes her happy. “I remember – a week after being revived – I was told, _‘I don’t suggest your first act to be to kill a Devil Archon, because it’s just downhill from there_.’ Many are still alive and standing because I didn't listen to that. You're not really changing anything are you? The world just exists and it's going to continue existing whether or not we like it, not _ours_.”

Maks said the last sentence with a lot more conviction in her voice. She didn’t feel threatened. She only felt a surge of… familiarity. A feeling she hadn’t felt for a long time. This debate was all but productive, and she could be doing good out in the field.

“Your actions on The Tangled Shore didn’t put anyone at ease, there are still wayward Guardians refusing to join the war effort because they’ve taken inspiration from you.” Osiris berated her. “They see Vanguard orders as a suggestion. We are in no need of that banner of inspiration during this war.”

It’s been two years. How was it even possible that anyone still harbored resentment?

“I can’t bring myself to call what happened on The Shore a ‘ _mistake’_. A mistake is… missing a shot, or Cayde ruining equipment with coffee, or accepting a bet from him.” Maks told him and his unreadable form. Hindsight was always ever so deliciously sweet. “I own up to what happened there, and the consequences. I don’t want mistrust because of that. I…”

There was only so much she could say with Crow in the room. He looked almost scared, yet as if he was ready and brave enough to leap in any second to break up the inevitable brawl between the two.

Maks remembered that she saved his life, for however brief.

_Uldren’s._

No matter how much she despised him.

She could have just walked away, grabbed the Ace from the ground and let the chimera take care of it as he wailed for his sister’s help. She still saved his life.

There was always the option to take out the Barons to prevent more harm, and just walk away.

Maks wondered how much pain could have been avoided in that manner. Sacrificing everything to get an edge against an enemy, only to realize that they would have been defeated without her sacrifices. She still volunteered for it anyway, no matter what. Luck that problems would solve themselves couldn’t be relied on.

Someone had to do it, and she wanted to tear the world apart because she was prohibited to.

How could she know that she could trust the command and their orders? But then again, if there were no free will choices, then how can it truly be a choice at all?

She just wanted them to let her have a choice.

"I don't want to lose." The two others heard the words escape from between her lips. They sounded so defeated, so hopeless. She continued to stare at the list of red spots appearing all over the map, and then felt the energy drain out of her. It’s as if whatever it was she’s been fighting since the Glykon, has just decided to give in. Everyone was stretched thin and exhausted. _Self-pity is not the path forward,_ Zavala would tell her.

Figuring that Osiris believed that there were some things that don’t need to be said to someone who has already lost their mind, she didn’t want to stay there anymore.

"I'm sorry about my outburst.” Maks apologized, swallowing the attitude. “That was out of line."

With a sudden twist of her body, she was gone in shadow. The silence that followed appeared to be unending, eventually it was broken by Crow. He wasn’t quite sure how to react, but he felt as if he knew exactly what she meant.

“Heh. After that, I no longer have doubts that she was raised by Lord Saladin.” Crow tried to life the heavy atmosphere. Despite the joke, he still worried about her. “At least she doesn’t have his sense of humor. She tricked me into believing that she’s been a Guardian for only six years.”

“She didn’t lie about that.”

“ _No._ ” It was the only word Crow could conjure, a huff of plain disagreement against reality as his brain started to fry.

“You do not give unnecessary leeway to those whose first course of action upon granted a new life was to slay a Devil Archon by herself, with a gun made out of scraps.” For whatever reason, Osiris believed that _this_ would make things less confusing for the young Guardian. “Riksis collected severed heads of other Guardians to give as a sacrifice to their Servitor. She quickly put an end to them all thereafter.”

“That’s… _comforting_.” Crow laughed nervously. He assumed that Osiris’ point was that no matter what, she does what _appears_ to be the right thing. Crow had a hard time overlooking what he was told. He chalked her not talking about any of it up to Lord Saladin, and his emphasis on being humble. “What do you _mean_?” He still asked, involuntarily.

“Whatever strings of fate put you on the good side of the most terrifying Guardian to walk these halls are ones you should never let unravel.” Osiris said. “That’s what I mean.”

At least it made sense as to why The Spider listened to her demands without complaints. Getting the feeling that Osiris wanted him to focus on work, he shut his mouth. There was _nothing_ to be found working from the H.E.L.M.

It felt like the fancy glowing war table was there solely to perfect the science of not getting _anything_ done, and it did a worse job at easing his worries.

If Maks and every single tale he has heard about her taught him anything, it was to do what felt right to, to not settle for a complacency. To chase hunches, to fight. There was no giving up. Find the right solution no matter how much you have to fight for it.

What was worse, he could see all of that drive slipping away from her as she was forced to serve a role under strict orders, of not having any say in what goes or what lives are saved. It was a slow starvation. She wasn't taking the idea of Zavala being in danger well, no one could boast about that. All she could do was to wait, and hope for the best. She wasn't good at that. She made her own fate.

For all intents and purposes, she was being whittled down to being a sentient gun by the command.

Maybe a trip to Nessus will ease his worries and give him some answers. He had to be a Guardian.


	36. Vulnerable.

“Listen, I’ve finished combing through the prediction you pulled from Nessus. I’ve got bad news. It’s worse than we thought. You were right.” Crow’s voice was strained with worry. “There was little I could do from here, so I had to ease my mind. I swung by Nessus to confirm it, dug out a corrupted Cabal transmission.”

“ _How_ bad is it?” Maks’ words were almost breathless, her energy focused on not grabbing the closest shotgun and running towards Caiatl’s general direction. It's what she's been programmed to do.

“Zavala is missing from every single one of the futures they’ve predicted. Not missing, ‘ _where’d he go_ ’ missing. _Dead_ missing.” He told her, unsure of what she was planning in her head. Her face was scrunched in a mixture of anger and confusion. “He has refused to work with Caiatl. It’s in her best interest to remove him. Sends a strong message. Glint can’t pinpoint a time and place yet. We need more information.”

She waited a moment, just a moment. She lifted her hands slightly to keep them away from her holstered guns.

“If you don’t tell me what to shoot right this moment, I _will_ find a fireteam and go after Caiatl. That’s what I do best, and it has worked out so far. We’re wasting time with this.”

Maks has dug up gods. Or so, at least that’s what he’s heard from gossiping civilians. There was a part of him that refused to believe it.

But, he had to believe her.

“I found our Vex on Europa.” Crow also did understand why Osiris viewed her the way that he did. “Word is the Vex have always had trouble predicting _you._ Maybe that’s our edge.”

Maks took a couple of steps with the intention to run for the vault, but halted. She slowly turned around to look at him again.

“Full honesty: I _never_ understood that one.” She said, not quite understanding the logic behind it all. She opened her mouth to speak again, found nothing, and resumed her quest with him accompanying her.

“I suppose there is little to say to get you to change your mind about this war.” Crow crossed his arms. It was like talking to Saladin by proxy.

Maks rested her hands on the console, not even looking at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“ _That._ ” She said harshly. “The Cabal hit themselves in the face, and take it out on us.”

“Caiatl seems to be willing to try to work with us to eradicate the Hive, and she—"

“If you want to keep pushing, have Glint ask my Ghost for a record about what happened aboard the Immortal, both times.” She gave him a frosty glare, and he felt like he was about to freeze in place from the cold. “Have him ask about how they wanted to _blow up the_ sun if we wouldn’t give them a victory.”

“That was the Red Legion.” Crow reasoned. “Caiatl’s Cabal just want to survive, they’re desperate. I don’t think we have a chance against the Hive otherwise. Maybe we can reach some kind of arrangement.”

“And this is Caiatl not reprimanding them for their crimes.” She countered. “Would it be worth it? And then, it’ll be _me_ again. It’s always _me_ , and it always comes back to Cayde somehow. That’s how we operate here.”

“Doesn’t have to be that way forever.”

Maks just stood there, face illuminated by the screen. For the first time in a long time, she felt physically sick. Couldn’t even eat, how could she possibly fight the politics and everything that insisted to be part of this war? The headache was almost unbearable.

Some years ago, the solution was simple: _let Maksim and her friends jump down into a pit and be heroes by slaying the big beast_. She attempted to respond, but all that came out was a strangled noise. Crow looked at her, at the broken shadow. Maks was lovely to everyone, in an odd way. Her face showed pain he couldn’t imagine, horrors he really couldn’t comprehend.

“It’s not supposed to be about the other side, because it’s not supposed to be about _you_. It’s not supposed to be about the Guardians.” Maks finally said. “It’s supposed to be about those who live in the last safe City.”

"I know. What you don't realize is you didn't think I'd understand that."

"I did not mean anything by it." It was a phrase she would often use to deal with her disappointment over something that was supposed to be fun, but she couldn't help but be struck a little dumb.

She wanted to have the heart to do it, to trust others and their belief that negotiations are the best path forward. It was her time to grow, her body could heal. She was scared to see the Light, afraid it may actually be a nightmare. Afraid to go beyond Light and see what lies there.

Her heart was broken, but not defeated.

A moment later, she was gone.

When Maksim saw the cage being built around the Traveler, she felt like she had failed everyone. Her being couldn’t help being in some sort of agony, as though her heart had been struck to pieces. The moment she was convinced that she had failed, something ceased; and she lost the pride which had so troubled her.

It attributed to the reason why she quickly got irritated at running to every corner of the world, and employed a strategy of blowing everything up. It always worked. She was put in a position where she could actually prevent something, and there was no taking it lightly. The trance of battle was too addicting, this time around it was laced with pre-emptive vengeance. Explosions shook the core of the EDZ until she was holding a strange device in her hand. She pocketed it and sat down on the metal ground; the fruits of her labor scattered around her in forms of dead Cabal, her armor covered with gunk.

What the hell would it take?

“We should report back to Crow.” Bun suggested once the transmat was done with.

“Where are the new Lights?” She found herself wondering. “Who’s teaching them? I know that I wouldn’t have risen to any occasion were it not for the Vanguard.”

“I don’t know.”

“The older ones are going their own paths, new ones are without guidance.” Maks was flabbergasted. “What is going on? How many of them have died before they reached the City?”

“Maybe we could do something, but I’m out of ideas.” He hovered next to her, just as lost as she was. “I don’t think we have enough veteran Guardians to elect a new Vanguard.”

“Here is hoping that Caiatl will buy the lie that we have leadership. Otherwise, it’s an order for me and my gun.”

There have been days when she has wanted to walk the path again, from the City all the way to the EDZ. As a reminder, if anything. She could barely stand flying the short distance. She almost wanted to tell Osiris and the rest that she wasn’t fit for this, that every day kept unearthing more memories which warped her judgement and prowess.

But she couldn’t, just at the risk that there was no one else.

“I have an idea of what the Psions are planning, and it’s not good.” Crow informed her the very moment she was in sight. “This gadget you found, it’s a tiny Light disruptor. Small, but strong enough to knock down a Ghost.”

He noticed how she struggled to keep her eyes on him to show that she was paying attention.

“Saladin says when the Cabal sieged the City…” He stopped himself. She didn’t need to be told what she knew. “Looks like the Psions have refined the tech which severed our connection to the Light during the siege.”

The eyes fell to the war table. There was no rage left in her, she got most of it out on the field.

“It’s… elegant, actually. And deadly. They wouldn’t need to fly a fleet into the City to use this. A single gunman would be enough,” He raised a finger into the air for emphasis. “… if they could catch a Guardian flat-footed. I’ll tell Osiris.”

There was the smallest indication of a nod, and something said with a dull sigh. Nothing he said came as a surprise. She seemed to be genuinely remorseful for what was predicted.

“I’ll keep an eye on the commander. You know… just to be safe.” He expected her to argue about it, to take the responsibility. All he got was a small and thankful smile before her gaze returned to the war table once again. She somehow made herself forget. Zavala was still in danger. It could come at any moment. She needed time, a lot of it. Either to think about how to prepare and prevent, or to steel herself. Couldn't figure out which was tougher.

It all just wanted to go sideways.

"I need a minute."

Maks had disintegrated before she finished talking.

* * *

Crow laid awake in bed of his quarters in the middle of the night, just staring at the wall. He'd been advised to get some rest, but it was proving to be difficult to shake away the guilt of not working. He didn't even bother to take off the most of his armor, as he needed to be ready at a moment's notice in case of emergency. It just was difficult to sleep with the scales on. A datapad blinked on the desk, but Glint was surely going to yell at him if it's touched.

Soft and hesitant knocking on the door pulled him back to reality just as he was about to drift off. He kept his mask in one of his hands, just in case. He slowly opened the door but knew who it was when he saw the faintest sign of red hair. Crow hadn't seen her for a couple of days.

"Hey..." Maks whispered, being a sight for sore eyes. "Want some company?"

He moved aside so that she could come in, and quietly closed the door so that no one would get alerted. It wasn't the biggest of rooms, but it was his. There was no attachment to it due to its temporary nature. She wasn't dazzled by it, didn't seem to care.

They sat in silence on the bed for a while, just being with each other, feeling the other one's presence. Being away didn't help her head.

"Crow?" Her voice sounded very small and scared. It made him want to comfort her even more, but he knew that wouldn't help in any way.

“Yes?”

"I… I don't know what to do." If only she could sleep just for a little while. When was the last time she slept, or ate? "I really wish things could be different…" Maks said, her voice breaking a bit.

"So do I…" He whispered, not knowing what else to say. Crow timidly moved his hand to her face, and she leaned into his hand as he touched her cheek. Her skin was so soft, yet cold. Her breath hitched and the ripples of light on her face danced around his hand, welcoming it.

He knew what she was going to say. She had to go, again. She couldn't stay. Something came up. All of that. He didn't know how to ask her to stay. Maks seemed to have such a hard time walking away from fixing cataclysms, but wouldn't let anyone get too close.

"You can stay the night here you want..." He offered. He felt her take in a deep breath as if trying to calm herself.

"I can't." She breathed out. "Or rather, I don't think I'm deserving of it."

"Of what?"

Maks was not sure if she wanted anyone that close. She closed herself off to the world. That's what she believed, at least. So, if she felt the need to be near him, then it must've been okay.

"Of whatever we're doing, Crow. These affections. I don't get how I can be on the receiving end."

With his hand still on her cheek, he rested his forehead against hers. What should he do? It would be so easy to just lean in and their lips would meet, yet he knew that it wouldn't be right in that moment.

They had both suffered enough in life already; no need to add any sort of selfish lust into the equation. They were here for one another, no matter what.

"We don't have to do anything. Just... stay." The words came out weakly, but they were all he had left. He didn't know how she did survive under the responsibilities, or why she took them willingly.

Maks leaned in and placed her head on his chest, and he wasn’t quite sure what to do with his arms. They seemed to have a mind of their own, and he embraced her once they were laying down. Crow knew that he was in fact supposed to breathe, so he slowly took a deep breath hoping it wouldn’t cause her to stir away. He held her a bit tighter, but wasn’t sure if that was okay. She seemed to like it though, so it must have been.

Crow didn’t want to think any more, so he just focused on the feeling of her on his chest and the warmth that was engulfing him. He laid back and closed his eyes. Soon, both of their breathing evened out and they’ve fallen into a deep slumber.

* * *

The Young Awoken woke up and felt an oddly comforting pressure on his chest. It was nothing like the usual anxiety he felt after a nightmare. Slowly opening his eyes, he was greeted by red hair. Her hair tickled his jaw, making him smile. Maks was sound asleep on him, a thin layer of fabric between her face and his bare chest, his arms were still in a loose embrace around her.

It was still early, an hour or two before he was to resume his post. Crow got next to none sleep but found himself rested. He thought that he'd wait a bit before he would rouse her.

She shifted, slithered, so easily between it all. Between being the first Guardian who showed him kindness after seeing his face, to a terrifying storm of Light eviscerating everything in her path.

"Where..." Maks mumbled. He felt her tense up, but she relaxed almost instantly once she realized where she was. "Hey..."

"Hey." Crow whispered back from above.

"What time is it?"

It was the first time he had ever heard her voice like that.

"Early."

Maks snuggled in slightly, evidently still sleepy. The next few minutes were blissful. The two of them lying together, enjoying each other's presence.

After a moment, she turned her head. She looked at him with her big yellow eyes and slowly moved closer to him. He felt his throat get dry as she moved her face so close that it was almost touching his. Crow felt a shiver run down his spine, but he tried to keep himself calm.

Why couldn't he move? He could feel her breath on his face, hear someone’s heart pounding. And he wanted more than anything to give into those feelings. To let go of everything else in the world for just one moment.

But that would be so foolish...

And yet, he felt himself wanting to do it more and more with each passing second. Just to feel that warmth, to fill his body with that energy. To close his gold eyes and feel her lips on his, to feel her hair between his fingers. To not worry about tomorrow...

Crow wanted to feel all this and more.

His mind went blank, his senses dulled.

When she moved away from him, he felt a slight twinge near his heart. He couldn’t tell if she was disappointed. He knew that the intimate moment was dead and buried with no Ghost able to ever revive it.

A coldness ran through him.

“Um… _thanks_.” Maks said awkwardly before she left the room. He heard her footsteps getting further and further away as his mind went through a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

His mind started racing as he realized what had happened.

Then, Crow smacked his face with his hand and let it rest there, reliving the moment. He didn't know what the hell was wrong with him. It was like a trance he couldn't break free from.

"I've heard of the phrase 'hopeless romantic' but..." Glint added to the Guardian's misery. "Never seen someone adopt the literal definition."

" _Very_ funny."

Glint wasn't done.

"For someone who created a lure for Wrathborn, you seem to struggle with--"

"I get the point." Crow rubbed his eyes. All he could see was her face so close to his, and him being stupid. He slowly opened his eyes in hopes that it would go away.

It did not.

Why was he like that? Why? She was right there, her lips almost tickling his, the cold of the Void feeling pleasant, trickling down to his spine. He already kissed her once, why was this...

"You did miss the mark pretty bad. Maybe you should change your class--"

" _Glint_!"

The Ghost had a lot more material, but he figured he could spread them out through the course of the day. Glint suddenly felt awful for making fun of him once he noticed how distraught Crow looked about it. He just stared blankly at nothing on the short ceiling.

"You really..." Glint blinked a couple of times, in thought. "You're really falling for her, huh."

Crow didn't know what was going to happen next, especially after this blunder, but he knew that this feeling had been building up inside of him for quite some time now.

"This is gonna hurt." Crow had to get his act together for the day. At least he had a distraction. A distraction that consisted of protecting someone she cared about, but a distraction. He sighed, rubbing his eyes again before sitting up. "I'll tell her.”


	37. What You Are.

No Ghost.

No Light.

Dead by what looks like City weapons.

Maks went over the reports with Osiris on the other side, and didn’t want to believe any of it. She wasn’t going to let more Guardians to be killed for no reason. She could handle a Psion, but staying put in the H.E.L.M. appeared to be the best choice. Why all these measures? Why not just go after her?

She wanted to find out the names of those Guardians. Should have been her. The only way out of this was to fight, and she had no idea how long it would take or if there even was a way out. But she knew one thing for sure: she wasn’t going to go quietly into the night.

In order to avoid that fate, she had to ask some questions.

“Osiris?” Maks put her rational sense aside, part of her was afraid to look at him. “Disregard _how_ this sounds, but what _is_ your assessment of me?”

She needed to hear it. _Had_ to hear it to begin to move on. He used it as an opportunity to try to figure out why the Vex couldn’t predict her. 

“You are abrasive, quick tempered, and difficult.” Osiris began, without even flinching. “You don’t hide your feelings well, but you don’t express them in a very direct manner. You don’t like being told what to do so you act on your own accord, but you’ll follow orders if they’re necessary.”

“I… see.”

He wasn’t finished, she could tell by the lack of strange cubes in his hand.

“You are also stubborn and will not be swayed by reason or diplomacy. You think too much and make rash decisions. Sometimes you act like a child.” He continued on: “Your personality is the same as Lord Saladin’s, though I think he is more of a strict disciplinarian than you are.”

Maks prepared for the rest.

_You don't want to be saved or keep order._

_In fact, you think it would be better if you didn't exist at all!_

_So, you go out there and make life miserable for everyone else._

_You don't want to be saved or protect anyone._

_You just want to live your life without any responsibilities._

_That's why you've been able to survive all these years, because you never had anything important to do._

Instead of all of that, Osiris said something that almost knocked her off the chair she was sitting on:

“In short, Maksim, you are the perfect storm of qualities that make up the ideal Guardian.”

“What…?” Maks whispered. Did she mishear that? She thought that everyone else was out to get her, but really, it was just because she was fallible. It would be nice if someone understood that. "Are you sure?"

“As I said, you are also impetuous and brash. However, when you act wisely and rationally, you can be quite the formidable hero.” Osiris explained. She didn’t need too many nice words, just guidance. A lot of people would’ve just given up or ran away the first time they saw someone’s head on a spike. “You do things like save this City more times than I can count. You've shown me that you aren't just a warrior. You've been through some tough times and survived. That's admirable.”

“Thank you?” The words were robotic, rivaling one of the many Vanguard frames around them.

He paused before continuing. “But above all else, you have the potential to be a great leader if you learn how to channel that aggression into something constructive. I think it would benefit you greatly if you took this course of action.”

“That’s fair.”

“No. _That_ is why we are giving you this choice, _Guardian_ ; you are either going to become a full-fledged _Guardian of Guardians_ , or you are going to be disposed of as an embarrassment to the name. If you continue down this path, the world will lose a hero. And perhaps…” Osiris wrapped it up, suddenly turning frigid: "The world should be allowed to lose a hero every now and then."

He felt like he made his point and that his work was finished, so he left her there to think before she could gather her bearings, especially his cold tone at the end.

“You need a break, Guardian.” Bun advised after a few minutes of silence. She had to admit, she did feel a little better. She needed the help. Maks felt something, like the faint sensation of a knife sliding into her palm. It was like she knew the truth all along. It was like he had been right.

“Mhm.” The Hunter half-laid down on the war table, burying her head in her arms. It’ll take time to go through all of it. Something else had been bothering her. “Crow and Amanda talked about Cayde, during the Rite.”

“I heard.”

“It didn’t make it easier for her.” Her voice was muffled by the cold plastic-like glowing surface. She shut her eyes so the intense blue light wouldn't hurt her eyes. “That’s all I got out of it. _That’s_ all I got out of today. I'm exhausted.”

All of this grief because she couldn’t run fast enough. Didn’t seem to matter how many times she got told that it wasn’t on her.

Actually, she didn’t feel any better.

Not really.

Just sadder.

Endless cataclysms were made worse that there was no time given to anyone to grieve.

“You should join them for those drinks in the City!” Bun nudged her arm with all of him, being awfully chipper, trying to get her to move from the spot she had stubbornly situated herself in. He trusted her to protect him in the case of a Psion. He felt an obligation to lift her up, despite his own feelings mirroring hers.

But, she only buried her head deeper.

Maks had her fill of alcohol in the Tangled Shore. Enough was enough.

_What’s the point of endless destruction, if you don’t give a crap about anything?_ Perhaps if she did something meaningless for once, she’d feel better about all this. Maybe when she destroys everything, it’ll take her mind off things. Who knew?

She knew that she was going to be angry for a long time, but something inside of her felt the need to stay there. To see this place through to the end. To see this place survive.

It was just awful to be a bystander in a war that wasn’t hers. To continue to watch the carnage with no real emotion.

Maks felt so small.

Her feet didn't feel right, her hands felt off-kilter, her hair didn't feel right. She couldn't turn to her parents and tell them what had happened, she couldn't remember anything she had ever told them. There was something that wanted to tear her apart, but knew it wouldn't let her. She was still in the moment, her body unable to move in and of itself, her emotions unhealing themselves. Her mind still thought she was dying, but she couldn't tell what it was that said that. She knew what it was, but she couldn't remember it.

Her thoughts continued, with other thoughts. But what did it feel like to not be a Guardian? To think that one day potentially you would live and never again be who you were, that your skin would never grow old. To leave herself, and her body. For the life she could hold that little, small flicker, that one moment of joy, for everything that was good in her life, but not a part of her.

She detected footsteps, Guardian ones. Careful yet confident ones. She lifted her head slightly, one glowing yellow eye peering out past her hair, and saw a familiar figure clad in silver and black.

“I thought you were getting drinks with Holliday.” Maks said softly, moving one of her arms to reveal her face. She felt a bit embarrassed that he stumbled upon her having a pity party.

“I was going to, but I got side-tracked. I don’t think it would go over well.” Crow sighed. He wasn’t sure how to approach it quite yet, with the information he had. She was right: it always came back to Cayde. “I was about to ask if you wanted to go get something to eat together.”

It was past dinner time. The sun was setting, but it wasn’t dark yet. She tried to remember when she last saw food: a day or two ago, wasn’t it?

"That'd be great.” Maks stretched as she got up, feeling like she was a million years old. “But I got the impression you wanted to talk to me about something other than food."

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." He worded it carefully, so that she wouldn’t get alarmed.

Whatever it was, her head was more focused on the very _prospect_ of food.

They found a place secluded enough, and on their walk there they reached a simple agreement: no conversations about work. Their Ghosts could handle that, just for a small moment.

The owners stiffened when they saw him place the mask right next to him, curious about this mystery Guardian. They stopped trying to catch a reflection of his face on every reflective surface on their table when she shot them a look about it. Maks could get away with it, change her hair and armor and become any other Awoken to them.

“I’ve been wondering about something Ana mentioned.” Crow said, looking up from the worm shaped noodles. “How true is it that you killed a Hive Worm God?”

“It’s quite the story.” Maks groaned slightly. He chuckled at that, though he did try to contain it.

"…Hm, bit of a downcast tone there. I sense a _but_ coming."

"It's a _long_ story." Maks shook her head with a smile. “I wasn’t really alone.”

"I've got time." He smiled, excited to hear the rest.

* * *

The streets of the City were empty in the middle of the night, giving them room to be in peace as they took the long route back to the H.E.L.M. The owners of the small restaurant let them stay there way past opening hours, listening to them both share stories about previous adventures. She made an effort to compensate them with Glimmer, despite their initial refusal. It's been years since not being able to tell the time filled her with happiness. 

"Glint told me a story about a ship that belonged to someone named Theseus. Have you heard about it?" Crow said it as idle chatter, if anything.

People weren’t objects to her; they weren’t a thing to be diluted to appease silly little thought experiments. And truthfully, she didn’t know any better herself.

“You’re not the ship, Crow.” Maks said. “You’re who you choose to be. That ship had no soul.”

“I know.”

“Hey.” She grabbed his arm to stop him, and let it rest there as comfort. “You’ve proven yourself to others around you. You know that.”

“I don’t think the rest of the City will see it that way.” Crow’s been through enough to see that fact clear as day. Maks made it very easy to let go and believe her. He saw her hesitating, as if she was in a battle about whether she should be quiet or not. One battle was won.

“My point is… that the man you were before would have _despised_ you. And that’s a good thing.” Maks told him, wishing she could see his face. “Take that as you will.”

Making sure that no one was around to see it, he reached up and removed the mask from his face. It felt so heavy, despite being something that could easily be shattered with the flimsiest of bullets. Slowly, he flipped it around until it was staring back at him. His eyes started to follow the hand still on his arm, until they landed on her face.

“What is it?” Maks tilted her head, picking up the way he was looking at her.

She could tell he wanted to say something he wasn't sure how to say.

“Well, I mean…” Crow hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to mess this up, but he was also not sure if she even felt the same way. “We’re in this together, right? And I don’t want to lose sight of that.”

Maks didn’t respond immediately, and he continued hesitantly:

“About the other day...” He looked down for a moment, and she could tell he was fumbling with his words. “I’ve never really felt this way about anyone else before. I want to be with you, Maks. But I've been worrying that you're just doing it all out of forced kindness, or pity, or some other superficial reason. I want to make sure it's... deeper than that. Because I know how you can be sometimes."

“How can I be sometimes, exactly?”

Crow was about to tell her, but the smirk on her face made him see that it was bait. Nightstalkers and their traps…

There was _one_ idea, but he hesitated just in case as he was still waiting for her answer.

“Seriously, though.” He kept his voice steady, ignoring his quickening heartbeat. "I don't want to just keep enjoying the time we have left like some teenager with a first crush."

The smirk fell from her face. Work had to come up at some point, couldn’t live in this carefree illusion for too long.

“You know that I care about you, Crow. I'm not going to claim that it just stops at fondness for you.” The weight of her words sunk in slowly, but surely. But, her face was fighting a war to not become drenched in worry. “I just need to consider that… if harm comes to Zavala – or any other Guardian here – while we’re too busy gallivanting, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“I knew that, and that there are obligations.” He admitted, watching those big yellow eyes narrow in confusion. “I just didn’t even think that you’d feel the same, and I couldn't wait.”

“Why wouldn’t–“ It clicked. Of course. “Veronica talked to you, didn’t she?”

“She did.”

“Veronica was different.” Maks sighed. It was a lifetime ago. “I was stuck thinking that there was no way on earth anyone could view me as anything else than the fabled and mysterious _Guardian of Guardians_.”

She uttered the title with every piece of resentment her being could radiate. She felt something, like a small flicker, that came from it. There was something that was holding her back. It was a sort of guilt, and in a certain way it couldn't be forgiven. She still struggled with it.

“Heh. I think I understand that feeling.” 

“Actually…” She let the hand fall to interlock her fingers with his, just as the realization that she reciprocated his feelings sank in. “I think you do better than anyone.”


	38. Stasis.

“… Unmasked?” Osiris finished Crow’s words. Just from one single word, Maks concluded that it was a terrible time to join. She let her form be concealed by shadow as she listened into the conversation. “Didn’t the Spider teach you that even small mistakes bring large consequences?”

“I supposed you learned that chasing Xivu Arath!”

Her jaw hit the floor. She could see how everything inside of Osiris went cold and stiff and his gaze was sharper than her knife. He raised his hand to point at the young Guardian.

“Choose your next words _wisely_.” Osiris said after taking a moment to collect himself, in a voice full of hoarse grief.

“I should have kept my mask on, but I don’t regret acting. I still think Zavala’s in danger.”

“That is why I’m embedding you as his bodyguard.”

“Is that… wise?”

“We need to draw in their assassins, and a full security outfit is too obvious. Keep your mask on. Always. Do not speak. Can I trust you to handle this with discretion?”

“The _utmost_.”

Maks snuck downstairs, and waited for Crow to appear. She knew that he would have made those choices either way, her involvement or not. They separated towards the end of their night, she figured he’d just head to the H.E.L.M. by himself.

“You don’t need to convince me.” Maks startled him slightly. “The man is worried about you, and that’s all you do?”

“Osiris tells me the commander always talks about making the hard choice. Reveal myself or let him die. Whatever I chose, someone would still say I was wrong!” Crow stretched out his arms in exasperation, then let them drop. She remained as stoic as a statue as he laid out his argument. “I’m sure you’ve lost people. Wracked your mind for how it could have been different. Too far away to act, but close enough to wonder. If you could have stopped it, wouldn’t you? No matter the cost.” His voice faded into a cracked whisper.

He did it _again_.

“I get it, but I won’t have anyone here using my grief to rationalize their choices.” Her eyes pierced him, and he was ready with a rebuttal. Her rescue missions always held a corpse at the end of the path. She was a few steps ahead of him. “Even if I’m not angry at them.”

“I’m not.” He said, but it sounded hollow. Maks didn't respond and he could tell she wasn't going to, but he knew it would only make things worse for himself if he tried to argue. She would only push him further away, and that was the last thing he wanted. Crow wanted to hold on to this, because, for the first time in so long, he felt something close to peace. He didn't want that to go away.

The pair of them continued in this vein for quite a while, neither one of them saying anything; it was like a battle of wills.

He still stood his ground, and broke it:

“For the longest time, I’ve been at the mercy of something I couldn’t stop, without knowing why. Blind in a nightmare. I didn’t want to be the reason for more pain.” Crow lamented. “The next time they come for the commander, they’ll have to get through me. Mask or no mask. Just… don’t tell Osiris I said that.”

Maks wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if she should tell him that he’s right about everything or just leave it alone and let him go on with what he wants to do.

She knew he was right about Zavala. She had to do something, but she was completely unsure of what it could be. In fact, she was afraid to even try.

“Just be there on time.” Maks advised him. “I always arrive too late to help them. I hear them calling out for help and I can’t run fast enough. Be there on time.”

“Not planning to die on me, are you?” Crow tried to lift the mood.

“No, but I won't live long either if I don’t get something done on Europa soon.” She disappeared back into the shadows, Saladin had a correspondence for her. Embodiment of fury and vengeance did little to describe him, though it did indicate an understanding of him. He ordered her to raze the Cabal Empire to ashes with a burning fury…

She found herself not even listening, found herself staring blankly at the dissolving hologram and wondering if she was looking at it all now with a new pair of eyes or if she just didn’t care.

A small voice told her now that this was different than she expected. As if this was the start of an answer. Just a few weeks ago, she would have taken the order with joy in her heart and her pockets filled with excess bullets and hundreds of Cabal would have been felled before Saladin had finished talking. Her head and voice had drifted away. She was sure that she was going to be so tired.

Maybe she’d rather claim that she’s tired than question leadership, and think about the struggle of detaching from it.

They could not afford to live the way that they did. They’d never admit it. So, she had to get out of there. They weren’t like her any more, they used to be her teachers but now she was getting the feeling that there was some sort of animosity between what she was seeing now and that reality.

She had enough feelings for her own self.

It was the power of the Light, same as the one used to create her. She had to accept that it did not work on her. This did not mean that the Light didn’t have the power to save anything.

Her weapon was already there, it just needed to be charged up in earnest. Maks started to move on. The path she was following to the Rite seemed to go on forever. She didn't need to go that far to get what she wanted. No more fighting, no more losing the fight, no more fighting herself. She just needed to do what she wanted.

It was all the same as all those other times before; she could not be bothered to keep trying to make things perfect. All she could do was hope that it worked, to be perfectly safe.

No, the Power of Darkness was different from the Light. It existed for some things in her life, it existed for others, it existed for many things in this life.

Maks finished the Rite without thinking about it. It all blended together. She had a question and her thoughts were not as clear. She was not really sure what she wanted. She had only begun to think of a reason she could come to terms with, and there was nothing she could answer.

“ _Great work down there_.” Crow said. “ _Now, come on back and warm up_.”

“ _Hey, do we have coco? Is that a thing we’ve got?_ ” Amanda wondered. “ _I’ll put on some water_.”

“I still have some business here.” She said, holstering her gun.

“ _You know what Big Blue has to say about lingerin’ too long on Europa.”_ Amanda told her. _“Don’t think he needs more worries on his plate.”_

“I know, but you’re not going to let that stop me from doing what needs to be done.” She tried to get her bearings to find the quickest way to the structure. “I’ve been through hell and came out on top. I’ll be fine.”

“ _You’re not thinkin’ about—”_

“Guardian.” It was her Ghost’s turn now.

“I always arrive too late. Stranger keeps telling me that this is the only way. If I don’t embrace it, we’ll fail.” Maks reasoned. “The cost is too high, but I will still be alive because of it.”

“I don’t want you to do this.” Bun didn’t want to look at her. He felt like he was begging for his life. She had a hard time keeping herself together for what he was about to go through. The small Ghost knew that he wasn’t going to be able to stop her, but he couldn’t just leave her like this either.

Maks had to accept the Darkness. She had to accept it, because if she didn't, then her own world would be broken and she wouldn't have the strength left to fight it. It would be better if she died than live in fear of it. She was going to have to die, but not like this. Not when there were so many things that could've been done differently.

“We’ve had months to study it.” She reasoned. “Rosalie has been able to stick with the Light despite acquiring it.”

“I know, but you’re… _you_.” Bun sighed defeat. She couldn't bear to see him in this form, but she couldn't have anyone dying because of her hesitance. “If you have to do it, do it quick.”

It was not something that could be forgiven for such a powerful person. Because she couldn’t live with that feeling of being hopeless.

"Well this is... this is a life and death situation." Maks said with a shrug, it's a life that doesn't stop.

But, she’ll make it. She’ll make it. They will forgive her. There were maybe other ways to win this game. There were ways to be sneaky.

The structure was not too far from where she was, but every step made it easier. The Stranger put it in simple terms. It was an order. If she refuses, it will mean death. But if she accepts, the Darkness will take her soul.

Her eyes sparkled with a burning energy.

Crazy and dangerous doesn't mean you're doomed.

She was not going to escape this whole ordeal, for any reason.

But, she was going to make it through that entire nightmare.

But she didn't think she was going to die. She didn't really think she was going to end it. That's why she tried to convince herself. To give up this whole nightmare, this horrible nightmare, so she could be happier.

“Please.” Maks’ hand trembled as she placed it on the structure. “Let me in.”

A voice told her that she couldn’t do that. Not after everything she’s been through and survived. She had to push through. Frost of the dark took over her mind and body. It was not just that, either: it was all around her now. Her thoughts twisted into a frenzy of emotions she couldn’t decipher.

She floated in a void, with no sense of self, or anything else for that matter. She heard a voice again, but this time it was soothing. It was right there with her, causing her to panic and try to fight it, but all it did was intensify the pain.

Just embrace it. Let it consume you. There is no going back now. Her bones were on fire from the inside. She saw herself at the very beginning, trying desperately to live, only to fall and fail. She saw herself trying to help, only to hurt. She watched herself choose to fight, and knew why. She wanted to survive.

The Darkness calls... does it ever call...

_Make a decision._

The words seemed to reverberate in her mind, almost shaping their own existence. A choice to either continue struggling and die a slow lingering death, or come to terms with her fate.

Everything led up to this moment. Everything she did, every choice she made, led her to this. She knew it all along, in the back of her mind. But, why did she do it?

And now here she was, drifting through a life that probably wasn't even her own.

Maks was a Guardian and death was to be embraced, not shed tears over. With a roar, she began to break free from the cold grip of death. Maks found her body shaking and spasming as the bitter coldness of Stasis rushed into her lungs, trying to kill her instantly. She shattered the thick layer of ice which had paralyzed her, and felt a surge of pain shoot through her mind as her senses returned to her.

Her body was shaking violently, her muscles still on fire. The burning feeling started just below her neck and spread downward, to her arms, until ice shards in the shape of a sickle formed in her hands.

Maks couldn’t bear to think about how long she was suspended for. The next thing she was aware of were hundreds of frozen Vex remains around her, and her sitting in the middle of it.

She looked at the weapons she was given, and could see herself as though she were a ghost. She could see the anguish on her face, her eyes tearing up. The fear was mutual. She tried to save herself, but she couldn't make herself move. She heard the voice once more, but this time, something was different. There was a sense of loss.

“Guardian.” The Ghost whispered with concern, as the ice shattered in her hands. She looked towards the only being who might be able to save her, the little floating companion. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

After Ghaul was defeated, the Vanguard offered her a place as a gift. She argued against it, but her Ghost couldn’t reject the key. There were boxes everywhere still, unopened gifts. The hard parts of her top armor were scattered on the ground, leaving her with a sleeveless undershirt. Maks rubbed her arms, trying to keep herself warm in a ball on the couch.

“I can call Crow. Or Rosaline.” Bun begged. “She’s been through this, she could help.”

“Don’t bother them.” Maks croaked out the words. “Zavala is more important. I’ll get used to this. And I’ve got you.”

“I can’t heal you…” He’s never felt more defeated.

“Hey, little buddy.” She offered him a sad smile. “We’re just making sure that the strings of fate are where they should be, alright?”

“Guardian…”

Her fingers itched to gently hold him, but she didn’t want to hurt him. She still had little control of this power.

“We’re just making sure that the strings of fate are where they should be.” Maks repeated through her shivering. “That’s all we’re doing. I won’t stray too far.”

“You promise?”

“I do.” Her breathing was unbearably jittery from the cold. Each breath was a struggle and she couldn’t stop it no matter how hard she tried. “I know I haven’t been good at keeping promises, but I won’t stray too far.”

“You’re in a lot of pain.” He couldn’t heal her, but he could sense it.

“I am.” Maks tried to laugh, but only could shiver uncontrollably. “It will pass soon.”

She tried to move, but her body refused to listen. Bun began looking for a warm blanket, trying to not be deterred. He had no idea where anything was. After a bit of hurried searching, he found something and transmatted it over to her. Maks wrapped it around herself tightly in an effort to warm herself up, but it wasn’t enough. Her teeth chattered so severely that she began to feel an aura of numbness, which would have made her feel like she was going to pass out.

“I’ll get out of this.” Maks told herself. “I have to.”

“I just can't let you die, Guardian. You're all I have." His voice was desolate and tired as he searched for more clothes. It went by in a blur, but she was quickly covered with a bundle of furs and blankets. The bundle was so large it partially suffocated her, but neither of them cared. She was still alive. He hovered next to her, trying to read the situation.

Maks felt the cold within her subside, and warmth envelop her once again. Her body was no longer shaking. She was starting to fall asleep. She needed to rest now. Everyone did. It was essential for survival.

The ripples on her skin weren’t glowing any more, replaced by shades of dark blue and resembling muddy water. The Ghost focused on the fact that she was still alive, and laid down right next to her hair.

She wasn’t sure for how long she slept. Her body ached all over, her throat was hoarse. She felt cold with goose bumps running all over her, but she didn’t believe she was dying this time. Even though she was in a bad mood when she woke up, everything seemed to have improved.

“How long was I gone?” Maks asked, stretching her stiff legs.

“A couple of days.”

“Huh.” It hurt to blink. Maks looked out the window and saw that it was dark outside. The City was still standing. That was good, at least. She tried to rub the dirt off of her arm with her thumb, only to realize what has become of the ripples of light.

“Am I still dreaming?” She asked herself and Bun laughed slightly. Just then, there was a knock on her door. “Hello?” Maks called with her voice still groggy and heavy. Crow’s golden eyes widened when he saw her, as if he expected to be lured into a trap set up by the Cabal.

“Where have you been?” Rest of his words got stolen from him when he got a better look at her.

“I had to take care of something. I'm fine now though, are you worried?”

“Of course I am!” His eyes looked distraught.

“Don’t be dramatic, Crow.” Maks said with a smile, which annoyed him for the first time ever. Usually, _he_ was the one annoying her with humor.

“I’m not being dramatic.” Crow hurried over to her. “I’m being _concerned_. Especially given the fact that you’ve been gone for days and we have Psions in the City walls. Amanda told me that your ship hasn’t left since you came back from Europa.” He seemed exasperated.

"I'm sorry, it's just... I had to take care of something." Maks dodged the inquiry.

Crow was silent for a second as he just stared in disbelief at her fragile self. She didn’t elaborate, just tried to shake off the fog in her head.

He frowned deeply. “Now _who’s_ being dramatic?”

"Alright, alright, I get it.” She ran an aching hand through her hair. “But really, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Crow looked unconvinced. He lightly traced the dark blue ripples on her arm with his fingers, finding her skin to be icy cold. Not how it normally was, with the soft serenades of the void which he had gotten used to. Touching her was more akin to dipping his fingers into the snow of Europa.

Her yellow eyes were surrounded by the dark. He swallowed hard. He’d seen this, somewhere, in some _life_. The thought of something out of his reach filled him with dread. She looked exhausted, like she wasn't even alive.

“Maks, what did you do?” He asked with a quaver in his voice. She didn't answer. “Maks…?”

“I don’t know.” Maks trembled and buried her face in her hands. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pain that was tearing through her as she lost control of the power again. Her breathing was getting shallow. She felt cold. So very cold. “Don’t tell anyone.”

When she opened her eyes, she could see a reflection of herself on the glass coffee table. Smears of Dark danced on her face.

“I don't even know where to start...” Maks said to herself as if reliving the painful memory again. She didn't know how to explain that she embraced the Darkness. Maks didn't really realize it, but she wanted to keep her friends, loved ones, and humanity safe. She transformed into a monster that killed them.

Maks felt a deep regret after, but she justified it by thinking that she didn't really have a choice. Maks hated herself for it. She couldn't let anyone die on her watch. Still, it built up and drove her to this insanity. She couldn't let anyone know what she did. It would be a disgrace to the Guardians.

“Don’t tell anyone.” Maks repeated. In a moment of weakness, she took the blackest path. Crow sighed; he wasn’t going to push her to explain. He touched her shoulder, and she looked up at him with tired eyes. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s alright.” He said, and she could hear the sadness in his voice. “You worry me.”

They both knew that it was more than just worrying.

The ripples on her skin flickered slightly, and shone bright again as the familiar feeling of the Void returned.

"Watch me. I'll worry you to death if you keep fussing." She replied with a smile.

Crow laughed. "I don't think you really have it in you to be scary."

She smirked, then mock-glared at him.

"Oh yeah?"

" _Definitely_ not."

“You’re an idiot.” She chuckled, shoving him playfully.

"I'm going to have you know I'm very charming when I want to be."

"Hm, maybe in some alternate reality." Maks teased him. He laughed again and helped her escape the mountain of blankets.

"I really hope that you don't fall further into this rabbit hole, because there is no way out of it."

"Can't wait!"


End file.
